


Out of the Shadows

by sparkandwolf (thatnerdemryn)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Derek Has Feelings, Derek Has Nightmares, Eventual Smut, First Kiss, First Meetings, Getting to Know Each Other, Hand Jobs, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Marking, Minor Character Death, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pack Dynamics, Pack Mom Melissa McCall, Scenting, Sheriff Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Has Self-Esteem Issues, Stiles Stilinski Knows About Werewolves, Werewolf Derek, for Stiles, minor character injury
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 80,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23158228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatnerdemryn/pseuds/sparkandwolf
Summary: Twenty years ago, Derek loses his family and his Alpha powers in one tragic night. On the run from his past, Beacon Hills calls to him. Enter Stiles, County Sheriff who squirms his way into Derek's life.Derek finally starts to feel like he has a home when the past he's been running from catches up to him. And puts Stiles in the crossfire.
Relationships: Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Melissa McCall/Sheriff Stilinski
Comments: 117
Kudos: 254





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO
> 
> I lived and breathed Sterek back in 2014, but never got around to writing them. Thanks to [Morgan](https://skylar102.tumblr.com/) I've been increasingly obsessed and this idea hit me like a ton of bricks. 
> 
> This is a canon divergent fic. The Hale fire _did_ take place, but under different circumstances. The Hale's inhabited upstate New York, not California. Beacon Hills is very well aware of werewolves and other supernatural creatures, _but_ when Scott was bitten, Beacon Hills was not nearly as exciting. Sheriff Stilinski's name is John and I will fight you on it. 
> 
> I will be attempting to post weekly until this fic is finished. I have 20k written right now and believe there's another 20k to _be_ written. I don't mess around. 
> 
> Without further ado, here is chapter one of Out of the Shadows.

_Derek’s eyes glowed red. The reflection of flames in the whites of his eyes mixing with his alpha powers blazing red in his iris’. He clawed at the front door, his long talons barely making a mark in the heavy wood. He heard the screams, the wails, the cries before a ringing erupted in his ears. He fell to his knees on the porch and tried to shake off the pain bursting through his head. He saw the shadowed figure and gloved hands moving toward him and swiped his claws, pulling one of the gloves off with a sharpened nail._

_“I was going to kill you, Derek, but I think watching you lose your will to live will be enough,” the voice mocked. Derek reached out weakly, trying to stop the figure from escaping, but he couldn’t do it. The sounds of his family, trapped and powerless, overtaking every thought. He tried to push himself up, desperately clawing at the door again. The attempt was useless as the building suddenly exploded, throwing him back onto the gravel driveway. The ringing in his ears that had since disappeared came back full force as he clutched his arm to his chest._

_He watched as his home burned to ash and the smoke overtook his vision. When his ears stopped ringing, he could hear the sirens echoing in the distance, but he didn’t care that they were coming. It was too late. His family was gone. First his father, now his mother, his sisters, gone, and he could do nothing to bring them back._

_He felt the power flow from his body as his eyes shifted from red to blue._

* * *

Derek shot up in his bed, sweat pouring off of his trembling body. He went to push the covers down, but the sheets had already fallen to the edge. He let out a huff of breath and squeezed his eyes shut as he swiped a hand over his face. He stared at the ceiling then, contemplating his ability to get out of his bed for the day. It was Thursday, he reminded himself, which meant the grocery store wouldn’t be busy this morning and the local farmers would have stocked the shelves with fresh produce by the time he got there. With a sigh, he pushed himself up and shook his head, something he did most morning to clear the smoky images from his mind. 

He stretched his arms up over his head, cracking his spine from his night of restlessness. He glanced toward the foot of the bed where Luke was sitting patiently, his head tilted to the side as he waited for Derek to call him over. Derek clicked his tongue and Luke sauntered over, stretching his own back before resting his head on Derek’s knee. 

Derek never thought he would have a dog. But he was a wolf without a pack and quite frankly, he was lonely. Luke was the closest thing to family he had, the closest he would allow himself to have. The scrawny Tamaskan mutt that showed up at his door when he made a stop in Colorado was the last thing he expected to stick with him. He had pushed people away so easily, but this whining pup who ate a pound of chicken from his plate was not easy to let go of. 

Luke peered up at Derek, the orange around his nose glistening in the ray of sunlight creeping in through the window. He let out a soft huff, his eyes darting toward the bedroom door. Derek laughed as he stood up and pulled on a pair of pants from his dresser. He grabbed a shirt and held it in his hand as he pushed open his door. Luke rushed down the stairs and sat at the back door, soundless as he waited for Derek. 

“Hurry back. We’ve gotta get to the store, okay?” Derek reminded Luke. Luke seemed to nod at him as he stood and pounced out the back door as Derek slid it open. He left it slightly ajar and walked to the kitchen. He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and poured his morning orange juice, glancing down at his computer. He moved through the camera’s surrounding his property, feeling his anxiety dissipate when he saw no threats. He jumped, only a little, when Luke’s cold nose hit his arm. 

“Ready for your breakfast?” Luke’s mouth dropped open and he pranced on his front two paws as Derek poured a cup of kibble into his bowl. He sat patiently until Derek had put the cup back in the tupperware holding his food. Derek turned and held his hand in a fist. Luke whined quickly as he shot a pleading look at his owner. Derek gave Luke a thumbs up and he scarfed down the food in his bowl with a few snarls. 

Derek trained Luke well. He could use hand commands for most simple tasks; sit, lie down, rest, roll over. He figured if he was going to have a dog, it should be trained to help him if he needed it. So his spoken commands - attack, protect, help - were all in another language. From all of his research, it was smarter to have a dog who didn’t respond to English so he wouldn’t accidentally listen to a stranger. When Luke was done eating, Derek grabbed his wallet and reusable bags and opened the front door after meticulously locking all other points of entry to his home. 

“Wóz,” Derek said his command for ‘car’ and Luke’s tail wagged as he ran toward Derek’s truck and sat at the driver's side door. Derek turned the keys for the three locks adorning the front door and walked over to him. He tugged open the door and waited as Luke jumped in and made his way to the back. He rested his head on the driver's seat as Derek situated himself. He turned and nuzzled his nose into Luke’s before saying a soft, “Dobry,” and putting the car in drive. 

Derek didn’t mind Beacon Hills. Of all the places he had visited while he hid from his past, it was the one place that called to him. He had photographed oceans and mountains and plains, but the forests of Beacon Hills were the first place he could see calling home. It scared him, of course. Home wasn’t something in his vocabulary and hadn’t been in twenty years. He was always on the run, hiding out in mountainous villas and oceanside apartments. He would take pictures, enough to supplement the income he needed for basic necessities, and then he would leave and never look back. 

He wouldn’t ever admit it out loud, but he was sick of leaving. Sick of driving for days, only stopping to let Luke stretch his legs and relieve himself, bunkering up in another town in another state that would never feel like home. That’s when he started searching for stability. He found the house on some real estate website, paid in cash for an enormous amount of land he would probably never fully utilize, and made his final long drive to Beacon Hills with Luke at his side. 

As he drove, he let his eyes wander. The forest surrounded him in the comforting way other’s found with family. Every time he glanced out his window, he saw the familiar greens and browns of the trees and felt an instant sense of calm. When he reached the city, the forest disappeared behind brick buildings and houses filled with the townspeople that seemed to live there for their entire lives. Everyone who attempted to make conversation with him knew he was not from Beacon Hills and that alone made him realize what a small town it was. He thought about selling the house and hightailing it out of the overly friendly town, but he never could. 

He pulled up to the store and sighed when he realized it was busier than he would have liked for a Thursday morning. There were a few too many cars and a lot too many people. Derek unclenched his fingers from their white knuckle grip on the steering wheel and cleared his throat to ease his anxiety. Luke jumped to the front and Derek raised an eyebrow at him as he rolled the windows down a few inches. 

“You know the drill. You wait in here until I’m out,” Derek confirmed. Luke seemed to pout as he pushed his nose out of the window and ignored Derek as he walked toward the store, reusable bags in hand. He stepped through the door and inhaled deeply to steady himself. He walked as quickly as was normal to the produce aisle and smiled a little to himself. He didn’t think the sight of fresh fruits and vegetables would make him feel as happy as it seemed to the last few years. He picked up a spaghetti squash and checked it for firmness, nodding when it met his standards. He filled one bag with pounds of chicken, beef, and steak and the rest with fruits and vegetables and a few staples. When he got to the front, he placed the bags on the belt and waited patiently for the older woman in front of him to finish paying. 

“Hey Derek,” the cashier, Isaac, said softly as he grabbed the bags and started ringing up his items. 

“Hi, Isaac. Busy today,” Derek commented, unsure of what else to really say. He didn’t mind Isaac; he was friendly enough to know Derek’s name and always used the secret store coupons for his items, so to Derek he was okay. Derek perked up as an unfamiliar and overwhelmingly strong scent overtook him. He couldn’t quite place it, but it wasn’t something he had detected in Beacon Hills before.

He sniffed the air just as he heard a voice chime behind him, “Haven’t you heard?” The voice was perkier than he really wanted to hear at this time in the morning. “The town has a curfew now. Everyone in their homes by sunset. The nighttime shoppers are all switching their gears and stocking up for the weekend,” the voice said as he put a bag of Cheetos, an energy drink Derek didn’t think he needed, and a pre-packaged Caesar salad wrap on the belt. Derek nodded slowly and looked back at Isaac who was grinning at the man. Derek turned slightly and saw the uniform before anything else. The dark pants and tan shirt were accessorized heavily with the utility belt around his waist. Derek felt his eyes narrow and suppressed a growl as his eyes met the man’s. His senses were inundated and Derek wanted to get out. 

“Hey, Sti-- Sheriff,” Isaac corrected as a blush spread over his cheeks. The sheriff laughed brightly and clicked open the tab on the energy drink. Derek smelled the sugar like he was taking his own sip and fought back his reflex to gag. 

“Isaac, how many times do I have to remind you that we went to high school together. You can call me Stiles,” he teased as he gulped a few hefty sips. Derek turned back toward Isaac and watched as his blush deepened. He found a small smile forming on his lips at Isaac’s embarrassment, but pushed it away when Stiles started speaking again. “Hale, right?” Derek inhaled sharply and turned toward Stiles. 

“And?” Derek responded. He didn’t like that the sheriff knew his name even though it might have been his job. He hadn’t done anything wrong while living in his jurisdiction and didn’t understand why his name would matter. 

“You bought the Old Greenberg house. In the middle of the preserve?” Stiles said conversationally, seemingly unperturbed by Derek’s narrowed eyes and furrowed brow. It was strange for Derek to not get a reaction out of people and he wasn’t quite sure he liked it. 

“And?” Derek repeated as he handed his cash over to Isaac. He didn’t have any cards in his name as they were too risky and easily trackable. Stiles eyed his wallet and Derek moved his shoulder to block his view as he put the change into it. 

“And I haven’t been out to that house since my prankster years in high school. You planning on fixing it up?” Stiles asked. Derek grabbed his bags, struggling for the last one in his anxious state, so Stiles grabbed it for him. Derek glared at him, but started walking toward the exit anyway. 

“It’s plenty fixed for what I need,” Derek answered carefully. 

Stiles nodded. “There’s quite the backyard if I recall, too. I always pictured a nice shed, ooh! Or a pool. What do you think of a pool?” Derek was slowly losing his patience for Stiles as he walked up to the truck. He wasn't sure what it was about the man that had his guard fully up and simultaneously ready to drop. He placed the bags in the bed, practically ripping the extra one from Stiles’ grasp. Stiles tilted his head but seemed unconcerned and Derek didn’t know why that annoyed him so much. 

“I don’t need a pool,” Derek answered stiffly. Luke seemed to sense his restlessness and growled deeply as he stared at Stiles through the glass. Stiles, again, was unconcerned and Derek felt his face heat with anger or maybe something else. “I’ve gotta--” Before he could finish, Stiles gasped. 

“What a beautiful dog! She’s like a wolf, aren’t you sweetie?” Stiles cooed as he reached for the window. Derek grabbed his wrist before Luke had the chance to nip at him and pulled it away from the window. Stiles raised an eyebrow at him and Derek dropped his wrist quickly. 

“ _He_ doesn’t like strangers,” Derek explained. He clicked his tongue and Luke reluctantly pulled his eyes away from Stiles. “Wstecz,” Derek commanded. When it looked like Stiles was going to speak again, Derek glared at him and he promptly shut his jaw, the happy smile still on his face. Derek should have known it wasn't going to be that easy.

“Smart dog,” Stiles commented. “What’s his name?” He asked as he took a step back. He had to as Derek opened the door and pulled himself into the driver’s seat. He started the engine as he reached for the door to close it. 

“Luke,” Derek said. Luke’s ears perked at the use of his name, but he stayed where he was in the passenger seat. One hand gesture from Derek and he was in the back seat. 

“Luke…” Stiles said as he trailed off, the smile on his face turning into one of amusement. Derek raised an eyebrow at him. He may have wanted to get out of there, but Derek would be hard pressed to leave if Stiles was about to make fun of his dog. “You named your dog Luke?” Stiles asked, his lips pulling up at the corner. It would be cute if Derek had liked that sort of thing. 

“What would you have named him?” Derek asked. Usually, he would’ve ignored the judgment and driven off without another thought, but Derek could already feel this man getting under his skin and he didn’t like it. 

“Something less… human?” Stiles said the words like a question and Derek raised his eyebrow even further, waiting for more of an explanation. “You’ve seen Game of Thrones, right?” Stiles asked. Derek furrowed his eyebrows then, not even remotely understanding what Stiles was talking about or why that was relevant. Stiles laughed and hooked his thumbs into his utility belt. “Of course you’ve never seen Game of Thrones,” Stiles commented like he knew Derek or something. “I would have named him Ghost. Strong, seemingly loyal, and wolf-like.” Stiles punctuated his explanation with a stern nod and Derek just stared blankly at him. without another word, he switched gears and started to drive away. “Come by the station sometime,” Stiles yelled as he pulled away, “I’d like to show you around the town, since you’re new and all that. Gotta do my neighborly duties,” Stiles said with a wink.

Derek pressed on the break and shook his head before he shouted, “I think I’m good." He pressed the gas and pulled into the street, unsure if Stiles had anything else to say. He couldn’t help but peek back in the rearview mirror and ignored the fluttering in his stomach as Stiles watched him drive away. 

* * *

Stiles loved Beacon Hills. Ever since he was a kid, it had been his home in more ways than one. He left right after high school, thinking that the town was just a bit too small for him to spread his wings, and college in California was everything he had hoped it would be. He shared a dorm room with Scott before they obtained an off campus apartment together to finish out their years. Stiles majored in criminal justice, knowing since a young age he wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps. He didn’t realize just how much he would follow, though. When his father retired as the Beacon Hills Sheriff, Stiles eagerly took the position that convinced himself he had earned. 

He had a knack for law. His father said he should become a lawyer, but Stiles wasn’t the kind of person to be stuck behind a desk for the rest of his life, fighting for things he may or may not believe in. Upholding the law was easy and provided the social interaction he thrived off of. He wanted to help people, and while most others might not consider the police as protectors, Stiles did. He fought long and hard for his reputation in the county and most people who lived in it respected him. 

Derek Hale was a different story. He had yet to meet Derek until their run-in at the grocery store. He figured his lunch break, away from the prying eyes of the station, was as good a time as any to introduce himself. It was no secret that there was a new guy in town. Granted, there weren’t many people who came in and out of Beacon Hills County without Stiles knowing about it. Rumor was he bought the Old Greenberg house in full with cash. The house was a run-down fixer-upper, but it came with almost ten acres of land and Stiles would have bought it if he had the means. 

Apparently Derek had the means and more. As far as Stiles could tell, Derek had no taxable income and no social media accounts. Both of those were important in his search, obviously. He tried not to feel guilty whenever he searched for someone, especially when that someone had done nothing to warrant the investigation. 

But something about Derek intrigued him. He had been there a few months and somehow, Melissa, his stepmother, didn’t know anything about him other than he had a dog. All Stiles knew was that he was loyal as hell to that dog and he wasn’t very good at conversation. And he didn’t seem to like cops. He ran Derek’s name through every system he could think of and nothing turned up, though. He obviously wasn’t a criminal, at least according to records, so Stiles wasn’t sure why he had reacted so strongly to his presence.

Naturally, that sparked Stiles’ curiosity even more and that was how he found himself bribing Melissa with juicy details to make him a pie to bring to Derek’s. He wasn’t sure if Derek liked pie, but realistically, who didn’t like pie? If he didn’t, he obviously wasn’t human and Stiles had a different idea on how to google search that. He pulled up the long driveway of the old Greenburg house, his wheels crackling on the gravel enough to give him away. Derek was on the porch before Stiles had a chance to put the car in park. 

“Hey, Derek!” Stiles greeted as he stepped out of the car. His eyes wandered to the dog, standing stiff at Derek’s side with a scowl on his face. Stiles has never seen such an expressive dog that matched such an expressive owner so well. Derek’s brows furrowed impressively, a similar glower on his face. Stiles grabbed the pie from the back seat where he had buckled it in and started up toward the porch. Luke growled in warning and Stiles laughed more nervously than he would have liked. Stiles could deal with criminals - criminals were easy - dogs on the other hand…

“Łatwo,” Derek said softly. Stiles thanked whoever was looking down on him when he heard the familiar word. His chuckle was still filled with nerves as he walked closer, lifting one foot on the first step of the porch. 

“Yeah, Easy, Luke. We’re friends, remember?” Stiles said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a treat. He had asked Melissa to make some homemade treats for him, too, and he was glad he did. Luke sniffed the air, distracted for only a moment before he peered up at Derek as if asking for permission. Derek nodded tersely and lifted his thumb. Luke surged forward, leaping down the stairs and landing in a sitting position next to Stiles. Stiles’ eyes widened as he held out the treat, just a bit afraid of losing his hand. 

“He won’t bite you. Unless I tell him to,” Derek said offhandedly. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, the muscles bulging through the flannel shirt covering them. At that angle, Stiles could see just how long Derek's legs were and how perfectly sculpted his face was. He took a breath and made the rest of the way up the steps to get a closer look. Luke was chewing on the treat at the bottom of the stairs and watched his every movement. Stiles tried, and failed, not to be intimidated. 

“Gryźć?” Stiles guessed. Derek’s eyes went wide and he held his hand up, the back of his hand facing Luke whose fur was standing up at his spine, his teeth bared. 

“Dość,” Derek said sternly. Luke visibly relaxed and tilted his head at Derek. “Dobry, Luke, dobry,” Derek cooed in Luke’s direction. Stiles blushed and bit down on his lip, looking embarrassingly back at Derek whose glare was more evident. 

“I didn’t mean to--” Derek held up a hand, the same motion he had given to Luke that seemingly meant ‘stop’ and Stiles pressed his lips together. 

“I’ve never met anyone who understands Polish,” Derek said with a surprised annoyance laced in his tone. Stiles laughed and clapped a hand on Derek’s arm. He quickly removed it at Derek's glare and held the pie out, a bright smile on his face. 

“Mieczysław,” Stiles said by way of an explanation. _There’s that eyebrow raise again_ , Stiles thought to himself. Derek was even more devastatingly handsome than he remembered. “I brought you pie to say welcome to Beacon Hills.” He forced the pie forward and Derek took it from him, peering into the box speculatively. 

“Thanks,” Derek said quietly. Stiles tried to peer into the house behind him, but Derek blocked his view with his body and Stiles couldn’t say he was mad about it. “Why are you here?” Derek asked. He waved a hand at Luke, who took a moment to stare Stiles down again before wandering into the forest. 

“Pie. Welcome.” Stiles rested his hands on his hips and grinned at Derek. “I like to visit those that occupy my wonderful town. Especially those who seclude themselves in the woods with their pet wolf and have reusable bags to get copious amounts of meat and fresh produce,” Stiles said matter-of-factly. Derek scoffed and placed the pie on the wooden table next to the door. He crossed his arms again, one scrubbing over his mouth that Stiles couldn’t _not_ stare at. 

“You have me all figured out, huh?” Derek asked, a small teasing tone to his voice that Stiles really did not expect. Stiles shook his head and took a risky step closer. 

“I don’t. Which is why I’m here. With pie,” he said again, gesturing to the almost forgotten dish. Derek nodded and whistled loudly before Luke came bounding up the stairs, breathing heavily with an almost smile on his face. Stiles reached down to pat his head, but hesitated as he glanced up at Derek. Derek nodded his head, but said nothing. Stiles squinted one eye at him and he thought he heard Derek laugh somewhere deep down. 

“He’s really friendly. I have to command him to be aggressive,” Derek said. Stiles patted Luke’s head and scratched behind his ear before straightening his back. 

“What about the car?” Stiles asked recalling how Luke was ready to tear his arm off without so much as a hand signal. Derek shrugged and rested his hand on Luke’s head. 

“He sensed my anxiety,” Derek responded. 

Stiles nodded slowly and asked, “And why were you anxious?” He was genuinely intrigued as someone who held themselves like Derek had no reason to be anxious around someone like Stiles. He didn’t mean for the question to sound like an interrogation, but he figured he failed when Derek tensed. He had hoped that maybe he would get some answers out of Derek, but his hope was squashed as Derek turned around and grabbed the pie, ignoring Stiles sputtering. He pushed open the door enough to let Luke inside before veering back toward Stiles. 

“I think that’s enough neighborly conversation for the day. Thank you for the… pie,” Derek commented before stepping inside and shutting the door. Stiles counted each lock as it clicked and wondered why someone like Derek would need three locks on his door. He shook his head as he walked down the stairs, a smile still on his face. If Derek thought he wasn’t coming back, he was very, very wrong. 

* * *

Derek stared at the pie on the table for a considerable amount of time. He paced next to the countertop, Luke eyeing him suspiciously with every step. He took the top off the container and sniffed. He knew immediately that it was blueberry and he hadn’t had blueberry pie since his mother made her last famous homemade one over twenty years ago. His mouth watered at the smell every time he lifted the lid, so he hurriedly covered it again, hoping the worn plastic would mask it.

It didn't. 

He grabbed a clean knife from the block and a serving spatula from a drawer before reaching for a plate. He pulled open another drawer for a fork and set everything neatly on the table. He knew that one bite of pie wouldn’t hurt him and it didn’t mean that Stiles would be back - he _knew_ it - but something inside was stopping him from uncovering the pie again. The smell was too much, though, and he caved more easily than he would ever admit. 

He inhaled deeply and cut a piece as quickly as he possibly could, sliding the serving spatula underneath and placing the piece gently on the plate. It looked as beautiful as it smelled and Derek couldn’t pass off the opportunity to photograph it. He grabbed his camera from his desk and snapped a few photos, rearranging the set up a few times. He could definitely market those for diners and restaurants and made a mental note to check his website in the morning. 

When he couldn’t stand the smell much longer, he dug his fork in, humming contentedly as he took his first bite. It practically melted in his mouth and he wasn’t sure if the whimper he heard was him or the dog. For his own dignity, he decided it was Luke. He pushed a bit of the crust to the ground and Luke walked over, sniffing at it before licking it up and swallowing in one gulp. He sat next to Derek and his head tilted as if asking for more. 

“Reszta,” Derek said gently, urging the dog away. Luke huffed, but obeyed, circling a few times in his bed before lying down with a sigh. His eyes closed immediately and Derek smiled at the sight. He could barely remember what it was like to fall asleep without a care in the world and was glad Luke was able to do so. When his eyes closed the night before, he could almost feel his lungs burning as his memories overtook his mind. He slammed the fork down onto the plate, ready to toss the rest of the pie when he realized his plate was practically spotless. He sighed as he stood and cleaned the dishes, a task he used to think of as monotonous, but has since provided a bit of comfort. 

His nightly routine was always the same. He checked all three locks on the front door, clicked the lock at the back door before placing a wooden stopper in the rail so it couldn’t be slid open. He double-checked all of the windows he rarely unlocked, let alone opened before taking one last look at the cameras around his property. He shut off all of the lights before making his way up the stairs, Luke a step ahead and just as ready for bed as he was. 

Derek brushed his teeth, washed his face, changed into his pajama pants, and laid flat on his back on his bed. He didn’t bother with the sheets that night, knowing they were just going to end up on the floor again. He rested a hand on his stomach, reminding himself to breath in and out, slowly and without pause as he drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you all enjoyed this and look forward to more. 
> 
> I made a [Tumblr](https://sparkandwolf.tumblr.com) specifically for my Sterek obsession so feel free to follow it for updates and snippets and other Sterek content. (There's not much on it now, but there will be, PROMISE!)
> 
> Also, feel free to follow my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/thatnerdemilyj) and let me know what you think. 
> 
> Please, please, please let me know what you think of this in the comments and leave kudos if you enjoyed it! See you next week!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The theme of this chapter is: "Stiles you cracked walnut."
> 
> Special thanks to [Morgan](https://skylar102.tumblr.com/) for being an incredibly beta and also leaving the best comments throughout this fic.

_“Derek, I-- I need, you need to come home, okay?” His sister’s shaking voice chimed fearfully through the phone and Derek felt his body freeze like he had been doused in ice water._

_“Cora, what’s going on, where’s mom?” Derek asked as he grabbed his keys and ran toward his car. As he shifted it into gear, all he could hear were whimpers. “Cora, talk to me, sweetie,” Derek pleaded as he raced up the road. The phone went silent and Derek threw it into the passenger seat, slamming his hands on the wheel and his foot on the gas._

Derek’s eyes shot open, their clear blue color shining until the natural green took back over with a shake of his head. The sun was barely up, but that wasn’t an unusual time for Derek to wake. He grabbed at the back of his shoulder as he pushed himself up and saw Luke at the window. His lips were curled and his teeth bared as Derek darted over and looked out to see an unfamiliar car in the driveway. He didn’t bother to throw on a shirt as he ran down the stairs, skipping every other step. He figured if he had to wolf out, he would avoid ruining the little number of clothes he did own. He unlocked the door and flung it open, only to see a small, older woman, not dissimilar to his mother on his porch. His heart contracted as she turned, a look of fright on her face. 

“Oh! You startled me!” She said as she placed a hand on her chest. She had a smile on her face even through the fear and Derek wondered what was in the water in this town that had everyone so happy. “You must be Derek. Stiles said you were cute, but _that_ is an understatement,” she commented as she pushed her way inside Derek’s house. He was too taken aback by the fact Stiles said he was cute to realize that she just-- _waltzed_ into his home. No one had ever been in his home. Even Luke was confused from where he sat in the entryway.

“Excuse me, I don’t--” 

“You ate my pie! Only one slice, though? I think you could handle more pie with a body like that,” she said as she looked around. “I haven’t been in this place, well, since old man Greenberg kicked the can and his son put it on the market.” She rested her hands on her hips and Derek took a moment to watch her. Her hair was solidly black with just a few strands of grey lingering through the curls and smile lines that stayed even as she judged the living room. She was wearing scrubs covered in butterflies and shoes that made her look ten times older than Derek thought she must have been. 

“Who are you and what are you doing in my house?” Derek asked quickly. He meant for the words to sound threatening, but he thought he heard more alarm in them than anything else.

The woman turned and laughed as she stepped toward him, her hand extended as she introduced herself, “Melissa McCall, longtime resident of Beacon Hills, nurse by day, and practically a mother to Stiles. I married his father when Stiles was in high school and we’ve raised him and my son, Scott, together ever since.” It was more information than Derek had ever gotten upon first meeting someone. She seemed to finally catch sight of Luke and kneeled down in front of him, grabbing his face in her hands. Luke looked up at Derek who gave him permission to enjoy the petting. Luke leaned into her touch, his tail wagging happily as she cooed at him. “Who is this handsome boy?” Melissa asked as she stood up. 

“Luke,” Derek said simply. 

Melissa laughed brightly again. “What a name! Luke - is that after something?” Derek shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest, feeling extremely confused. He knew it would be inappropriate, if not rude, to kick her out of his house, but it was barely seven o’clock and he was very aware that he was still not wearing a shirt. 

“Mrs. McCall…” Derek started, but Melissa had turned and started walking toward the kitchen before he could finish. She uncovered the pie and hummed softly as she inhaled the scent. She reminded Derek of his own mother again, but he quickly shook the thought away before it could take over. 

“Call me Melissa - everyone does. I have to get to work soon, but I think I have time for a morning slice, what about you?” While her words were a question, Derek didn’t think she was going to accept the answer he wanted to give. He sighed and shut the door, leaving the locks undone as he hesitantly walked over to her. He went to grab a knife, serving spatula, plates, and forks but Melissa stopped him. “Just grab some forks and plates. We’ll be fine with just those,” Melissa decided as she sniffed at the pie.

“Do you want yours heated up?” Derek asked. The situation was weird, at best, but he wasn’t about to be rude. She did make him pie after all. 

“I would love that!” She exclaimed as she cut two pieces messily with the fork and plopped them down onto one of the plates before placing it into the microwave herself. “Have a seat, dear. You’ve only just woken up, haven’t you?” She commented as she licked some pie off of her fingers. Derek nodded again, his eyebrows furrowed in their usual way. They sat in silence for a few moments, Melissa eyeing him very thoroughly. Derek crossed his arms over his chest as a sudden feeling of unfamiliar self-consciousness overwhelmed him. Before he could say anything else, the microwave dinged and Melissa skipped over to grab the plate. “I love a warm piece of pie in the morning, don’t you?” She asked as she took a large bite. 

“Thank you. For the pie, I mean. Stiles didn’t mention where it was from,” Derek said lamely. He was slowly realizing he would have to improve his conversation skills in order to continue living in Beacon Hills and he was already dreading it. 

“Stiles will take credit whenever he can. But we love him!” Melissa exclaimed as she took another bite. Derek shrugged and ate his own, unable to stop the hum of pleasure at the delicious taste. “Oh, I’m so happy you like it! Blueberry is a specialty of mine, but that’s mostly because my husband enjoys it so much. Stiles likes the cherry,” Melissa continued with a wink. Derek raised an eyebrow, but decided it was better not to ask. 

“I really appreciate it, but I have to admit…” Derek trailed off, waiting for Melissa to interrupt him. When she didn’t, he sighed and pushed the plate a bit away from him. “I don’t understand why you’re here?” Derek’s words came out like a question, but he figured all the events of the morning called for questions. Melissa had shown up at his home earlier than he was even awake and he didn’t think it was rude to ask why. She didn’t either, apparently, as she leaned forward and smiled brightly at him. 

“Stiles has taken an interest in you. He doesn’t ask me to bake pie for just anyone, you know,” she said. Derek didn’t know. He didn’t understand why Stiles would be interested in him or why he would just stop by or why he would bring him _pie_. It didn’t make any sense. Melissa must have felt his nerves rising or heard his internal monologue because she placed one hand on his and pushed the pie plate closer to him again. “Just eat the pie, Derek. Enjoy the company, the dog, and the tasty pie," Melissa advised. And as if it was an afterthought, she added, "And stop overthinking it” Derek nodded at her and couldn’t help the smile from forming on his face. He didn’t mind it, if he was honest. He didn’t mind the company, the dog lying at his feet, the barely-there creeks of the old house. And he really didn’t mind the taste of the pie he finished eating while listening to Melissa gossip about the hospital. _Maybe this could be home_ , he thought. 

* * *

“Morning, Sheriff!” Erica called from her overly comfortable position at her desk. Her feet were propped up and her uniform was unbuttoned in a way Stiles had eventually stopped warning her about. As he walked by, he pushed her feet off and winked at her. 

“Morning, Deputy Reyes, I hope you had a good weekend off,” Stiles said. Erica didn’t say much in response, just grunted and threw her feet back up onto the desk with a smile. Stiles walked into his office and paused when he saw Lydia leaning against his desk. When she saw him, she pushed herself up and rested her hands on her hips. 

“Stiles,” she started as she pursed her lips, “now that you’re sheriff, you think you can just saunter into work whenever you want?” Lydia asked, a teasing tone to her voice that Stiles had always loved. He rolled his eyes and sat down in his chair before leaning back and staring up at her.

“That’s exactly what I think, Lyds. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in Paris or Rome or something?” Stiles asked with a wave of his hand. He could never keep up with Lydia; her fashion line had her on more airplanes than Stiles could keep track of so he stopped trying. She gaped at him and gasped dramatically, her hand coming up to cover her heart. 

“I’m hurt, Stiles. One gay awakening later and it’s like our love meant nothing,” she commented with an absent flick of her wrist. Stiles rolled his eyes, but they were filled with fondness. 

“You know our love was everything, baby,” Stiles retorted as he grabbed her hand and pulled her onto his lap. 

In his position as sheriff, Stiles had a recent string of luck. There had been barely any issues in town, besides the dead animals appearing overnight, but that didn’t matter much to him. He had started to enforce the usual curfew that the townspeople were very good at listening to, but other than that, his days were filled with normal traffic violations, some petty thievery, and a delinquent or two. Stiles had let himself revel in his lucky streak - that was until the door to his office slammed open and Derek entered, Erica hot on his tail. She looked a mix of angry and awed and Stiles definitely understood it.

Derek had stopped the minute he entered, like he hit a brick wall he couldn’t get past (as if there were any brick walls Derek couldn’t get past with arms like his). Stiles didn’t understand why he had paused so abruptly until the weight lifted from his knee. He sighed and looked at Lydia who had a large, teasing grin on her face. 

“You must be Derek,” Lydia offered as she sauntered up to him. She held herself a little straighter and pushed her chest out as she strode forward with a feminine sway to her hips. Stiles held back the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m Lydia. Martin," she added as an afterthought as she held out her hand. "I was just telling Stiles here how much I miss him,” she teased, turning her head to blow a kiss at Stiles. He pretended to catch the kiss before rolling it into a ball and tossing it in the trash. Lydia seemed unperturbed by it as she turned back toward Derek and glanced down at her outstretched hand. 

Derek reluctantly took it before he sniped, “Why does everyone in this town know who I am?” Derek was clearly exasperated by the thought and Stiles chuckled as he stood from his chair. Derek tensed and Stiles thought maybe he didn’t mean to say that out loud. 

“It’s hard to stay hidden in this town, Derek. Just let it happen,” Stiles suggested as he walked up to them. He wrapped an arm around Lydia’s shoulder and moved her toward the door. He grabbed onto Derek’s arm with his free hand at the same time, pulling him fully into the office while pushing Lydia out. “While it was great to catch up, Lyds, it seems Mr. Hale would like to speak with me,” he said overly sweet. She turned and pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek, making sure her lipstick rubbed off. She pulled away and patted the spot, winking at him before taking one last glance at Derek. 

“I hope to see you around, Derek,” Lydia said seductively. Stiles couldn’t resist rolling his eyes at Lydia's antics and he shut the door quickly before turning back to the man who awaited him. 

“What can I do for y--” Derek had him pressed against the door before he could finish and Stiles thought his police training should have kicked in, but it hadn't. He just stood still, Derek’s hard body pressed against his, and his hands could do nothing but raise in surrender. “I don’t want to arrest you for assaulting an officer,” Stiles started, but the threat lacked any semblance of truth. Derek leaned in and rubbed his nose against the lipstick mark on Stiles' cheek. The only reaction Stiles had time for was to inhale sharply, an almost gasp that seemed to snap Derek back into reality. His eyes widened in panic as he pushed himself away and pressed his palm into his shoulder. 

“You brought me pie,” Derek said as if that explained the unprovoked attack. Stiles nodded, his back still pressed up against the door. He wasn’t sure why he missed the feeling of Derek pressed so close, but he pushed it aside in order to focus on Derek’s obvious observation. 

“I did,” Stiles agreed, nodding his head quickly. “Did you like it? Melissa makes amazing--” 

Derek cut him off once again. “And Melissa came by this morning to see if I liked it!” Derek practically yelled. Stiles bit down on his lip to hold back a smile. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip when he couldn’t hold it back anymore. 

“So, that’s what this is about,” Stiles noted with a click of his tongue. Derek gave him a look that screamed ‘of course that’s what this is about’ and Stiles didn't even try to suppress his laughter. Derek gaped at him as he walked back toward his desk, propping his feet up on his desk as he sat. Sure, Erica couldn’t do it out in the open, but he had an office for a reason. “You’re angry that my stepmom made you pie?” Derek sighed and paced back and forth in front of Stiles’ desk. 

“I’m angry that I’ve lived here for three months and have had no visitors - which is how I like it, by the way - and all of a sudden, I get two in the span of a weekend,” Derek explained. He continued to press his hand into his shoulder, but his feet were pacing. 

“Derek, sit down. You’re making me dizzy.” Derek froze and looked over at the chair in front of Stiles’ desk as if contemplating if it was the best option. It felt like minutes passed before he resigned himself to sit. Stiles shook his head and removed his feet from the desk, leaning his elbows onto it to be just a little closer to Derek instead. “Are you angry at who the visitors were?” Stiles asked, knowing full well what the answer would be. Derek opened his mouth, like he was ready to say yes, but closed it as he looked at Stiles. 

He shook his head and apparently opted to tell the truth, “I’m angry that you feel like you can just _stop by_. Do I seem like the kind of person that likes surprise visitors, Stiles?” Derek asked. The question was rhetorical - Stiles knew one when he heard one - but he didn’t let that stop him from answering. 

“You look like the kind of person I’d like to surprise. First, with pie. Then, with dinner,” Stiles said, nodding his head along with his words. “Yeah, dinner. I make a mean pierogi. How about Wednesday?” Stiles offered, his smile growing as Derek seemed to freeze at his words. He stared into Stiles’ eyes like he was trying to figure out if he was kidding. 

He wasn’t. 

“Wednesday?” Derek clarified. Stiles nodded again and stood up, moving to the front of his desk and pushing himself up to sit on top of it. His feet dangled a few inches off of the ground and he was even closer to Derek now, enough to feel his anxiety at the thought of a simple dinner. Now, _that_ was interesting. 

“I have Thursday off this week. Wednesday night means I can have a few beers, make a meal for the two of us - and Luke if he wants - and we can sit on the back porch and wait for the wildlife I’m sure you have hidden in those woods.” Derek stared more intensely, his face increasingly blank. Stiles just grinned at him, tilting his head to the side as he decided how to tease Derek next. He was going to say more, but decided against it when Derek stood. 

Derek looked consideringly at him for a moment before he asked, “If I say no, are you going to show up anyway?” Stiles laughed and hopped off the desk to move toward the door before Derek could get there. 

“See, you already know me so well!” Stiles noted as he pulled open the door. Derek sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face, the familiar scowl ever-present on his features. “Wednesday - I’ll bring dinner, you supply the beer. Fair?” Derek shook his head as Stiles’ stretched out his hand but shook it anyways. Stiles squeezed it and couldn't help but pull Derek a little closer. “I don’t work Thursday, so if I stay the night, I stay the night,” Stiles teased. Derek’s open mouth stare had Stiles smile spreading more than he thought was possible. There was something he liked about making Derek nervous. 

“I don’t have a spare bedroom,” Derek said as he pulled his hand away from Stiles. He started walking toward the front of the station and Stiles leaned his shoulder against the doorframe. 

“I’ll see you Wednesday!” Stiles shouted, uncaring how many ears were listening in. Derek didn’t turn around, but Stiles liked to think he was smiling at least a little (maybe on the inside). He glanced around the station and caught Erica’s eyes, gleaming with intrigue. Stiles shook his head and motioned for her to take her feet off her desk once more and she did so with a huff, tossing a paperclip in his direction. 

“One year as sheriff and you’re already just as much of a hardass as your father, huh?” A familiar voice chimed. An instant grin overtook Stiles' face as he saw Scott walking toward him, arms open. 

“Scotty!” Stiles yelled as he leaped into Scott’s arms. Scott caught him and spun him around and he heard the familiar giggle belonging to Allison from beside them. He pushed out of Scott’s arms and pulled her into a tighter hug, pressing his lips to her hair. “Allison, it’s so nice to see you guys,” Stiles said honestly. While Stiles felt himself pulled back to Beacon Hills after college, Scott had stayed away, but Stiles couldn't blame him. He wasn’t too far, just a few miles outside of the county, but given how close their friendship was, it was too much. He held Allison by her shoulders at arms length and peered at the small blanket-covered figure she was holding. 

“She has been fussy all morning, but the minute we drove into Beacon Hills, she was out like a light,” Allison commented as she rolled her eyes. Stiles laughed as he pulled the blanket up to peek at her face. 

“Beacon Hills is just as boring as always,” Scott noted, nudging his elbow into Stiles’ side. “The new sheriff is making sure of that, I’ve heard,” he commented as he threw an arm around Stiles’ shoulders. Stiles rolled his eyes and was about to make fun of Scott for being so touchy when he heard Erica grumble in the background. 

“You two are sickening, you know that?” She said as she slammed the phone onto the receiver. “I hate to break up this beautiful reunion, but there’s been another attack. Animal control is asking you to attend to it,” Erica said to Stiles as she examined her nails. Stiles reminded himself to teach her about urgency one of those days. 

“Duty calls,” Scott said as he moved to wrap his arm around Allison’s waist. Stiles sighed and nodded as he walked back toward his office to grab his hat and jacket. 

“Yes, it does." Stiles sighed before adding, "You guys gonna be at the house for dinner? Does Melissa know you’re coming?” Allison nodded and smiled warmly at Stiles. 

“She would kill us if we were in town and didn’t let her know,” Allison pointed out. Stiles laughed and pressed a messy kiss to her and Scott’s cheeks as he made his way to the front doors of the station. 

“I’ll take care of this and then we’ll talk, okay?” Stiles shouted as he walked through the doors. He hopped into his cruiser and made his way to the outskirts of town, his music blaring unprofessionally through the speakers. He thought about his talk with Derek and couldn’t help but smile to himself and scrub a hand across his face.

Derek was… something. He initially made contact with him in a lame attempt at police work, but the more interaction he had with Derek, the more he really wanted to figure him out. Derek had asked if Stiles had figured him out yet and Stiles didn’t understand how anyone could. He had a ‘get away from me’ attitude that pulled Stiles in a way it definitely wasn’t supposed to. He shook his head as he thought back to his office; the immediate possessiveness that seemed to surge through Derek as he pressed Stiles against the wall, the way he gently brushed his nose against the lipstick stain on his cheek. He had recognized that kind of affinity very quickly. 

When Scott was bitten, he was the same way. He became entirely too friendly with Stiles, to the point where him and Stiles had to have a chat about boundaries. It turned out that Allison had the same conversation with him as neither of them could as much as hug another person without Scott scenting them. It wasn’t unusual for werewolves to scent their pack, but Stiles hadn't realized he _was_ pack, at least in the traditional sense. He figured werewolves would need other werewolves to be a pack. He slammed on his breaks when the shocking realization hit him. 

Was Derek _scenting_ him? Did he want Stiles in his _pack_? 

Derek didn’t have any friends that Stiles knew of, no visitors from what nosy townspeople could tell. He had Luke, but Stiles was pretty sure dogs didn’t count as pack as much as he thought they should. Stiles wondered for a moment why Derek would press himself so closely to Stiles; why he would make sure their skin had touched, and why he had moved away so quickly, _too quickly_. Stiles felt himself hardening in his jeans and shook his head to push the unprofessional thought aside. The knock at his window made him jump as he rolled it down. 

“Sheriff Stilinski, thanks for coming.” Stiles smiled as he focused on former Deputy Parrish.

“Jordan, it’s good to see you. I’m worried it’s you on this case, though,” Stiles noted as he stepped out of the car. Jordan laughed and nodded, raising his eyebrows at Stiles. 

“You probably should be,” Jordan replied carefully. Jordan was the head officer for animal control; of course, in Beacon Hills, that meant the head officer for the Supernatural Protection Force. Stiles didn’t come up with the name, which he made sure to point out whenever he could as SPF was probably the worst acronym they could have used for such a badass team. 

“What do we got?” Stiles asked as he stared down at the deer corpse blocked off with caution tape. He noted claw marks across the creature's throat and what looked like deep teeth marks on its side. He knelt down to get a better look and tilted his head at the black residue peeking out from underneath it. 

“We thought rogue werewolf based on the claw marks and puncture wounds that matched our molds of werewolf fangs and claws, but this,” Jordan said as he pulled out a bag of black ash, “makes us suspicious.” Stiles nodded and shook the baggy in his hand to get a better look. It looked like ash from a bonfire, nothing more, so he raised an eyebrow at Jordan as he stood. 

“You want me involved why?” Stiles asked, taking a few steps away from the deer. He may not have had senses like a werewolf, but even he could smell the decaying corpse. 

“It’s processed wood. The lab found paint and stain chemicals mixed in with the normal and no campers have been reported in this area since the storm that would have wiped away any trace of a fire,” Jordan explained, but Stiles wasn’t so sure. 

“Campers come out here all the time without us knowing, Parrish. There’s got to be more,” Stiles urged. Jordan nodded and gestured around the woods. 

“We’ve searched over one mile in every direction and found no trace of this substance, Sheriff,” Jordan explained. That was definitely a bit more interesting. 

Stiles nodded slowly and asked, “Is there anything else strange about that?” Jordan nodded and turned the deer over with the help of another SPF officer. 

“The claw marks on his neck were enough to kill him, yes, but _immediately_. If a rogue killed this deer, there would be barely any of him left for us to find. This was placed here, Stiles. For us to find. For someone to find,” Jordan said slowly. Stiles pursed his lips and took another look at the bag in his hand, flipping it over a few times like he was searching for something. He wasn’t; it was just a little leftover ADHD from his childhood. 

“Mind if I take this back with me? Have Erica take it to Boyd?” Jordan nodded and waved a hand toward the corpse. 

“Do with it what you want. Would you sign off on us completing an autopsy on the deer?” Stiles nodded and turned back toward his cruiser. 

“Send me the results,” he ordered before climbing in. He placed the baggie in his glove compartment and locked it in for safekeeping before pulling away. 

* * *

When Derek arrived home, he took the longest shower he had taken in years. That was saying a lot as he had spent days in a car with Luke before and felt the need to scrub himself raw after. This time, it wasn’t disgust that flooded through him, it was Stiles. The feeling of arousal from Stiles pressed up against him, the territorial response that overwhelmed him when that woman put her grimy lips on Stiles’ cheek, the excitement he couldn’t quite describe of Stiles offering to stay the night. 

He shook his head furiously and pressed it against the wall of the shower, letting the water flood over his hair and into his face. He had already cleaned every inch of skin, ready to wash Stiles’ scent off of him and then immediately regretting it when the aroma disappeared. He was still hard, not letting his hands touch that part of him. If he touched himself, those feelings would be real and he didn’t want them to be.

Derek had never wanted a pack - he never needed one. Even when he was an alpha, he didn’t much care for anyone besides his family. His family was his pack and his pack was his family. He didn’t want another family and he didn’t _need_ another family. He honestly wasn’t quite sure if he could handle another family and the loss it would inevitably bring. 

But that woman put her _lips_ against Stiles’ skin and every instinct in him burst. His spine straightened, his skin tingled, and he used every margin of control inside of him to keep his claws and fangs from showing themselves because… because… 

Because he didn’t want Stiles to be anyone _else's_. The realization was too much for him as he slammed his fist against the wall. 

_Twice_. This man invaded his personal bubble twice and Derek couldn’t get his scent out of his mind. The thing that bothered him, though, was what Melissa had said; that Stiles had ‘taken an interest’ in him. Derek was instantly attracted to his scent, but repelled by his presence. It wasn't only that Stiles was a cop, it was also his urgency to stick his nose in Derek’s business, and Derek had asked himself over and over again why someone like Stiles would be interested in _him_. 

From what Derek could tell, Stiles had a stable job, lots of friends, and lived in the town he grew up in. To Derek, there wasn’t anything he could give Stiles that he didn’t already have or need, granted, Derek didn’t believe he had anything to give anyone. He was just a freak with no family _or_ friends, who took pictures because that was the only talent he really had. He had nothing to offer Stiles. 

But for the first time in his life, he wished he did. 

He finally shut off the water and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel tightly around his waist and pushing his dripping hair from his eyes. He saw the flash of blue in the mirror and glanced away before the memories could haunt him out of his nightmares. When he reached his bedroom, Luke was gnawing on his favorite bone but stopped when the door opened. Derek gave him a thumbs up and he continued again, looking as happy as ever. Derek watched him with a smile on his face as he dressed for the evening. 

Derek found himself dreading his usual evening routine where he would make himself dinner to eat alone and maybe watch some TV if he felt up to it. He thought about walking into the preserve to take pictures of the sunset, but he really didn’t want to risk running into another person again. Luke's gnawing on the bone had stopped and when he glanced at the dog, he was looking at Derek with concern laced in his eyes. Derek smiled at him and called him over and Luke rested a comforting head on his knee. 

Luke was the only pack that Derek needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dogs should count as pack, don't you think? I do. I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> I made a [Tumblr](https://sparkandwolf.tumblr.com) specifically for my Sterek obsession so feel free to follow it for updates and snippets and other Sterek content. (There's not much on it now, but there will be, PROMISE!)
> 
> Also, feel free to follow my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/thatnerdemilyj) and let me know what you think. 
> 
> Please, please, please let me know your thought in the comments and leave kudos if you enjoyed it! See you next week!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains Stiles' pack feels and lots of them. Ft. Stilinski family dinner, Stiles & Lydia friendship, and Derek meeting Scott. Enjoy!
> 
> As always, thank you [Morgan](https://skylar102.tumblr.com/) for being a wonderful beta and letting me scream at you about this fic on a daily basis.

“Stiles, honey, I would tell you that you’re late, but I’m sure you are aware of that!” Melissa yelled from the kitchen the minute he entered. He rolled his eyes, but they were filled with a fondness for his stepmother. 

“Ma, your subtlety has never been better,” Scott shouted back as he walked to the door to greet Stiles. Stiles smiled widely and pulled him into another hug before taking off his jacket and kicking off his boots. He followed Scott to the living room where Allison was sat cross-legged on the floor, baby Melody flat on her stomach. She lifted her head when Stiles entered and he put a hand on his chest. 

“She’s lifting her head? God, I miss everything!” Stiles complained as he sat across from the two on the floor. He crossed his own legs and patted Melody on the head as she looked up at Stiles with wide brown eyes. “How is my goddaughter today?” Stiles cooed as he lifted her from her face down position. He pressed a kiss to her nose and placed her on his knee, bouncing it a little as she giggled happily. 

“She’s so close to crawling, it has my heart hurting,” Allison said as she pouted. Scott leaned down and pressed a kiss to her head before sitting next to her. 

“She’s a werewolf, for sure,” Scott commented with a nod of his head. Allison slapped his arm and rolled her eyes. “What? She’s already almost crawling at five months old. She’s excelling faster than a human baby. All the books say so!” Scott argued. Stiles laughed and pulled up her lip, leaning in to examine her gums. 

“No teeth yet, though. Which might be a good thing for Allison.” Scott threw a toy at Stiles that hit him in the forehead. Stiles winced and glared at him, moving the glare to the giggling infant on his lap. “Et tu, Melo-day,” Stiles complained as he lifted her from his lap and blew a raspberry into her belly. At that moment, his father and Melissa walked in from the kitchen. Melissa snatched Melody away and cuddled her close as Stiles stood up to give his father a hug. 

“Son, good to see you. Tell me about the deer,” John said without a pause. Stiles gaped at him and furrowed his eyebrows before shaking his head in realization. 

“Parrish may call me Sheriff, but you’ll always be it, huh?” Stiles asked. John shrugged as he stroked a gentle finger over Melody’s cheek. He sat on the couch with a grunt and kicked his feet up on the coffee table. Stiles threw his hands up in defeat as he walked over and pushed them off. “You’ve been spending time with Erica, haven’t you?” Stiles accused. 

John laughed loudly. “She’s still up to her old tricks?” John asked as Stiles sat next to him. Stiles huffed out a sigh and nodded quickly. 

“I don’t know how you controlled these people for so long, Dad,” Stiles said, exasperation laced in his tone. John just tilted his head and looked over at Stiles. 

“Respect, son. Now, show some respect to your old man and former sheriff and tell me about the deer,” John asked again. It felt more like a command, but Stiles obliged him anyways. 

“Parrish isn’t so sure about a rogue anymore. They found some weird residue on the deer’s fur that seems to be processed wood of some sort. No trace of any fires around a one-mile radius and it doesn’t seem like the body was dragged. So, unless a rogue decided to hunt for sport, not food, Parrish finds it suspicious,” Stiles explained. John nodded his head along with Stiles’ words and held his chin in his hand as he thought. 

“What are your next steps?” Stiles grinned and leaned forward, accepting John’s challenge. It had been a game they had played ever since Stiles became sheriff. John would quiz him about how he would handle it and they would argue until Melissa stepped in. 

“Well, I have the residue in the car for Boyd. They’re doing the autopsy tomorrow and when I get the results, I’m gonna--” Melissa whistled, something she did when she did not want to hear the rest of whatever was going to be said. Stiles smiled widely at her and held his hands up in defense. 

“Boys, go set the table while we talk about anything other than animal murder,” Melissa chastised as she shooed Scott into the dining area, Stiles following closely behind. When they reached the table, Scott grabbed the plates and Stiles grabbed the silverware and they began to set the table. It was an old tradition that Stiles would never be rid of. 

“Dude, does Parrish really think someone is murdering deer for sport? What does he think the motive is?” Scott asked as he placed the first dish in its rightful spot and folded the napkin neatly on top of it. 

Stiles considered for a moment before clearing his throat and saying in the most professional voice he could muster, “That’s official police business, Mr. McCall. I’m afraid I can’t tell you the status of an ongoing investigation, but if you reach out to--” Scott jabbed Stiles with an elbow as Stiles placed the silverware on top of the napkin. “I’m kidding, Bro, relax!” Scott raised his eyebrows at Stiles who rolled his eyes in response. 

“C’mon, Man. Something like this hasn’t happened, well, since I was bitten,” Scott whined as he set another dish. Stiles thought back to that time in high school, when Scott admitted he was a werewolf and it was one of the most anticlimactic things that ever happened. He had always hoped there would be more to it, as Beacon Hills was not exactly a place of excitement, but it ended up being almost nothing. They had rogue werewolves here and there, a kanima now and again, maybe some supernatural tree no one had ever been able to find, but no _excitement_. It was part of the reason Stiles stayed in Beacon Hills if he was honest. He wanted excitement, but he had also heard about human pack members' early demise because of their lack of ability. He hadn't wanted to be another one of them. 

“You know I’d tell you if I knew. Right now, it’s just sketchy. We’re keeping the nighttime curfew and hoping who or whatever is doing this decides that deer are the only prey to target,” Stiles explained. Scott sighed in disappointment and Stiles raised his own eyebrows at him. 

“What? I’m allowed to be upset there's no action my first week back in Beacon Hills,” Scott said as he glanced at Stiles out of the corner of his eye. Stiles admittedly was not paying as close attention as he should have, so when he replayed the sentence in his head, he slammed the utensils down on the table. 

“Back? Did you say back?” Scott's smile grew. “Like, for good?” Stiles pleaded with wide eyes. When Scott nodded again, Stiles hooted and pulled Scott into a tight hug. There wasn’t much else that he thought could make him happier than having his best friend back in arms reach. “What about your business?” Stiles asked. Scott may have been a werewolf, but he chose the most boring career in the world; construction. He was incredibly good at lifting heavy objects and was rarely tired or injured, so really, it worked out well for him. 

“We’re expanding. I’ve got a few small projects lined up, but I’m looking for something to last us. Know of anyone?” Before Stiles could answer, the rest of his family walked in, Melissa holding a giant turkey while John attempted to balance three bowls of sides in his arms. Stiles grabbed the mashed potatoes from the crook of his arm and made a point to place them nearest his usual seat. 

“I bet Derek would be interested. Stiles, you should ask him!” Melissa said brightly as she set the turkey down. Stiles let out a huff of laughter and shook his head. 

“Derek doesn’t strike me as being interested in a bunch of strangers traipsing around his property,” Stiles concluded after a bit of thought. 

When everyone was sat, Scott piped up, “Who’s Derek? And why would Stiles be asking him things?” Scott accused. Stiles laughed and handed him the mashed potatoes after he placed half the bowl on his plate. 

“Jealous, Scotty? That’s what you get for moving away for so long.” Stiles winked at him when Scott flipped him off. Allison rolled her eyes as she fed some watered down mashed potatoes to Melody. 

“He’s allowed to have friends other than you, Scott. He’s a friend, right, Stiles?” Stiles knew Allison well enough to know a trick question when he heard one. He glanced at his father who raised a questioning eyebrow. 

Melissa sighed and took it upon herself to explain, “Derek Hale bought the old Greenberg house a few months ago and Stiles has made it his mission to be ‘friends’ with him.” Stiles shot her a look of betrayal before he spoke. 

“Well, it _was_ my mission before Melissa went over his house at seven o’clock in the morning and made him mad at me!” Stiles accused. 

Melissa gasped and threw a hand over her chest. “I have no idea what you mean. We had a lovely chat!” Melissa shouted back. Stiles rolled his eyes at her overdramatic response and held up his fork to point it in her direction. 

“It’s weird for my stepmother to show up the morning after I bring him pie and force his antisocial self to talk. You must see that,” Stiles said. Melissa rolled her eyes back. 

“Don’t point your fork at me, Stilinski. I was being _friendly_. Besides, I had to scope him out - it’s my duty as the former sheriff’s wife,” Melissa rationalized. Stiles wanted to respond, but John held up his hands. 

“Will you two stop that? For once, I’d like a nice meal that isn’t filled with sass and petty arguments,” John sighed. Stiles nodded in compliance while Melissa pointed her fork at him. 

“You’re telling me you have no interest in the first man to have Stiles’ attention since college?” Melissa challenged. John probably regretted taking a sip of his beer as he choked on it, looking accusingly at Stiles. 

“Wait, wait, wait, I heard friends. The word 'friends' was thrown around and now you’re saying _interest_?" He paused for a moment before leaning toward Stiles to whisper, "In like, a sexual way?” Stiles, Scott, and Allison groaned in succession. 

“Dad, Jesus! I just met the guy. I haven’t even been on a date with him yet!” Stiles said. He immediately regretted it when Allison chimed in. 

“Yet? What does ‘yet’ mean?” _Damn her and her psychology degree_ , Stiles internally cursed. He glared in her direction and went to change the subject, but couldn’t get a word out as Scott started speaking. 

“I haven’t seen you blush like this since Lydia, dude,” Scott laughed and ducked as Stiles tossed a piece of broccoli in his direction. “When do I get to meet this Derek? Does he have a last name?” Scott asked. 

Stiles shook his head and responded, “Nope, just Derek. Kind of like Prince or Sting.”

"Derek Hale," Melissa offered with a smirk on her face. "He has a dog, too. Beautiful pup, loves behind the ear scratches,” Melissa replied as she took a bite of her dinner. Stiles glared at her. 

“His name is Luke and he could eat you for dinner with one Polish word,” Stiles challenged. Melissa raised her eyebrows at him. 

“Already so defensive. So, when is this date, Stiles?” Melissa asked casually. Stiles opened his mouth to answer but shut it immediately when he realized what she was doing. 

“No, no, no. You all,” he said with a wild gesture of his fork, “get to know nothing. Not until there’s something to know. _Kapish_?” John looked relieved while everyone else stared at him blankly. “ _Kapish_?” Stiles repeated, raising his eyebrows as we waited for a response from the rest of his family. 

“Got it, Stiles. You’ll tell us how Wednesday goes,” John said as he stared at his plate. Stiles gaped at him in disbelief and everyone else followed. John looked up innocently and shrugged his shoulders. “Deputy Reyes sends out daily emails and I’m still on them,” he explained. Stiles groaned and slumped in his chair. 

“The daily email includes my dating life?” Stiles whined as he covered his face in his hands. All he wanted was one secret - not even a secret, really - just one thing he could tell his family before someone else in this godforsaken town got to them. 

“The daily email included attempted assault on an officer and inappropriate station conduct. You should really check your work email more often, Stiles. It’s good practice,” John added as he washed down the rest of his dinner with a sip of his beer. “Now, who wants to play Clue?”

* * *

Wednesday came faster than Derek had wanted it to. It wasn’t that he wasn’t looking forward to the date - because no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't ignore the skip in his heart when he thought about it - but he really didn’t know what to expect. He never anticipated visitors at his home, let alone someone who very well could be staying the night. _No_ , Derek thought firmly to himself. Stiles was _not_ staying the night. That was a line Derek wouldn’t cross with Stiles. 

He stared blankly at his bed and eyed the freshly washed sheets and blanket neatly tucked under the mattress and sighed. He splayed himself down on the bed, pulling one of his pillows over his face and resisted the need to growl. He figured if his bed didn’t look presentable, there was no way Stiles would end up on it. He sighed even heavier when he realized just how much he was considering it. The urge to cancel was overwhelming. 

Another sigh left his lips as he reasoned with himself. _One date wouldn’t kill you_ , his mother always teased him. It wasn’t that he hadn't wanted to date in the past, either. He had a few girlfriends here and there, a few male one night stands, but he never met anyone who was worth the dedication. He wouldn’t say Stiles was worth any commitment, though, as he didn’t even really know him. All he knew was that he was the sheriff of a tiny town that he seemed to grow up in and he smelled _really_ good. 

Derek wasn’t sure what came over him at the police station. It was risky and called attention to him in a way he hadn’t done in years. He had been so careful to repel any attention with his furrowed eyebrows and icy stare, but no - with Stiles, he just had to press him up against the door to his office and scent him. Like an idiot. 

The sun was high in the sky and Luke was sunning himself out on the back porch when he finally made his way back down the stairs. When he heard Derek coming, his tail thumped and he stood up, racing to grab a stick before bringing it back to his owner. Derek chuckled softly and patted his head as he tossed the stick into the woods. Each time, Luke found the same stick and bounded toward him, dropping it in front of Derek’s feet and smiling at him. 

Logistically, Derek knew that his dog wasn’t smiling, but Derek let himself believe that the way his lips pulled back and his teeth shone brightly meant that Luke was just as happy to be here as Derek was. He reached for his glass of water on the table next to him and froze when the tasteless liquid hit his tongue. 

_Beer_. Stiles had asked him to supply the beer. Derek wasn’t sure that he had ever bought a case of beer in his life. 

He ordered Luke into his kennel before making an impromptu trip to the grocery store as quickly as he could. He knew he had a couple more hours until Stiles was due, but knowing Stiles the little he did, he figured he might be early. He grabbed a basket from the front and made his way back to where he knew the beer was kept. There was a sign on the refrigerated area directing him to the ‘beer fridge’ and Derek followed it with a muttered, “Humans.” 

Once inside, he felt his panic rise. He hadn’t really considered just how many premade alcoholic options there were for humans. There was the typical beer he remembered his father having in the fridge growing up for his human friends, cans with fruity flavors, IPA’s, pale ales, lagers. Derek grabbed a large blue can from one of the enclosures and started reading the contents. He heard a throat clear behind him and jumped, only slightly embarrassed his werewolf senses didn’t pick up another person in the fridge. His guard shot up when he realized the presence was another werewolf. 

“You look a little… lost,” the man observed. Derek nodded his head and held up the can in question, taking a moment to glare at the offending label. The man chuckled and grabbed the can from Derek's hand before saying, “Natty Daddy’s are for a very specific type of human.” The man placed the beverage back on the shelf and Derek eyed the werewolf suspiciously. “I have a feeling what you’re looking for is--” He searched the shelves before grabbing a six-pack of Black Butte Porter, “this one. Stiles loves this one." Derek nodded slowly in thanks but glanced up at the man abruptly when his words repeated in Derek's head. He had a smirk on his face that had Derek’s face heating at his reaction. 

“How did you--?” The man held out his hand and Derek shook it firmly. 

“Scott McCall. You’ve met my mother,” Scott said with an affectionate eye roll. Derek let out an unexpected chuckle and nodded at him. 

“I have. And I’ve met your-- Stiles. I’ve met Stiles,” Derek corrected as he opened the door to exit the godforsaken beer fridge. Even he was getting a little chilly in the room and he ran a lot hotter than a human. Scott followed him with a twelve-pack of White Claw. Derek raised his eyebrows at it and Scott shrugged. 

“My wife, Allison. She lets herself drink one night a week when my mother has our daughter and this is what she decided on,” Scott explained with a wave of his hand. Derek pretended to care and offered another nod. “You’re Derek, then?” Scott assumed. Derek tilted his head at Scott. It had been two days since they made their date and Derek didn’t understand how it was possible that people already knew about it. He didn’t think the town could really be _that_ small. He realized Scott was quiet and figured it was his turn to speak. He wasn’t quite used to two-sided conversations and he had been having a lot more of them than he had liked recently. 

“Yeah, I’m Derek. Hale,” Derek offered lamely. Scott grinned at him and started walking as he spoke. Derek assumed he was supposed to follow, so he did. 

“Stiles wouldn’t tell us when the date was, but ma grilled him about it and Erica - Deputy Reyes? - sent everyone an email about it," Scott explained as if he sensed Derek's surprise. Scott continued, "My mom seems to like you. Which, I mean, isn’t saying a _whole_ lot because my mother seems to like everyone, but Stiles?” Scott trailed off as he shook his head. “Stiles is a harder nut to crack. I haven’t known him to go on an actual date since college and even those were all superficial.” Derek couldn’t begin to understand why Scott was telling him all of this, but Stiles seemed to have the upper hand with information so he decided to pay attention. “I take it he’s going to your place? Or are you just getting beer so you have an excuse to invite him inside?" Before Derek could actually answer, Scott waved his hand and said, "Either way, I see what Stiles sees in you. Not that _I_ have any interest,” Scott corrected as he held up his left hand. “I'm married. Have been for, wow, like ten years now. Time flies, doesn’t it?” Derek didn’t think it did if he measured it by this practically one-sided conversation. 

“I should really…” Derek trailed off with a thumb over his shoulder to point at the registers. Scott stopped walking and grabbed a bag of chips off the shelf before following Derek to the registers. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” Scott observed as he put his groceries on the belt. _You didn’t really give me any time,_ Derek thought gruffly to himself. “Is he going to your place? Or are you just hoping to get him _back_ to your place?” Scott asked. For the first time in the conversation, Derek felt a little threatened. He smelled the alpha status on Scott the minute he realized he was a werewolf and had to hold back his primal instinct to submit to him. He repeated to himself how much he didn’t need a pack, which was increasingly hard considering how much Scott smelled like Stiles.

“He invited himself over to make dinner,” Derek explained as he put his own beer on the belt. He peered over at Scott, a challenge in his eyes. “Not that it’s any of your business what Stiles and I decide to do tonight,” Derek said sternly. Scott nodded, his face serious, but before Derek could be intimidated, Scott's face broke out in amusement. 

“Stiles would have said the same thing, though, he would have been entirely less intimidating than you. You’ve got an alpha stare, you know that?” Scott asked nonchalantly. Derek suppressed a growl but his chest still rumbled lowly. Scott tilted his head at him consideringly and grabbed his bag from the counter. “Get my number from Stiles. I’m looking to renovate a house for my construction portfolio and I’d love to get my hands on that masterpiece you now call home,” Scott shouted as he walked off, not giving Derek the option to decline. Derek hadn't realized he was pressing his palm into his shoulder until he no longer had eyes on Scott.

He looked at the cashier, realized it wasn’t Isaac, and sighed. “How much do I owe you?” Derek asked the small brunette girl behind the register. 

She smiled brightly at him and said, “$9.99, Sir!” Derek grumbled, unreasonably annoyed at her perky tone, as he pulled a ten-dollar bill from his wallet. Before he could gather his change, he grabbed the beer and stormed out of the door. When he got into his truck, he realized he had wasted almost an hour at the grocery store because of Scott. A surge of panic burst through him when he realized he had only four more hours until Stiles was due at his home. He took a deep breath and pressed his hand into his shoulder again to try and slow his racing heart before putting his car in gear.

Four hours was _definitely_ not enough time to prepare himself for whatever the night would bring him. 

* * *

Stiles wasn’t a nervous guy. Sure, he had spent a majority of his high school years attempting to control his ADHD induced panic attacks and calming his stuttering tongue around the girls he so actively fell in love with, but he wasn’t that anxious guy _anymore_. At least, he tried to convince himself of that as he buttoned up the flannel shirt he thought was a good choice to wear on his first date with Derek. He let his eyes wander over his body in the full-length mirror and he suddenly figured out what it felt like to be a teenage girl. 

He sighed at his reflection. He had grown into the lanky body he had been cursed with as a teenager, but the flannel still draped loosely over his torso and his jeans still felt baggy over his long legs. He had two hours until he was scheduled to meet with Derek, so he did the only thing he could think of. He picked up his phone and dialed, waiting a little bit impatiently for the other line to pick up. 

“Stiles? You never call. What’s going on?” Her voice was panicked and Stiles made a mental note to call her more often. 

“Lydia, I have two hours until I have to leave for Derek’s house and I need you--" He paused and took a deep breath before continuing reluctantly, "to bring me an outfit,” He had to pull the phone away from his ear when the squealing started. “Lydia, _please_ ,” Stiles begged as her giggles took over.

“I know you’re rolling your eyes at me, Stilinski, but I don’t care. Give me thirty minutes and I’ll be over.” He heard sounds of rustling and keys chiming together before an engine started. “Tell me about the date while I drive. Where is it?” Lydia asked, her voice so serious, it had Stiles holding back his own laughter. 

“I’m making him dinner at his place. It’s very casual,” Stiles warned. 

Lydia clicked her tongue and hummed. “What kind of look are you going for?” Before Stiles could repeat the word casual, Lydia began again, “Let me rephrase. Do you want something to keep on the entire night or something that is easily taken off,” Lydia asked and Stiles could hear the smirk in her voice. He went to answer but stopped to think about it, which he regretted in an instant when Lydia hung up before he could respond. Stiles stared at the screen blankly, but all he could do was wait. 

Almost exactly thirty minutes later, Stiles heard Lydia's car pull into his driveway and his stomach flipped. The knocking on his door had him hopping from his spot on the couch that he’d been anxiously waiting on. He tried to look more collected as he answered the door, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. He offered a long, drawled out, “Hey,” as Lydia forced herself into his house, smacking the back of Stiles’ head with her free hand.

“Hey, what was that for?” Stiles asked, rubbing the spot as he followed Lydia inside. Lydia turned to him, placing her hands on her hips and raising her eyebrows. 

“Next time you’re panicking over a _date_ , send a text first so I know we’re not back in high school where you’re dying,” Lydia asked. Stiles thought about it and laughed to himself. That explained the initial panic; he realized that the only times he had ever called Lydia were when someone was injured, dying, or dead and crossed out his previous mental note. _Don’t call Lydia unless there’s an actual emergency involving death or destruction_ , replaced it. 

“Noted. But, c’mon in, make yourself at… home,” Stiles trailed off as Lydia placed three outfits on the couch, each one progressively more unlike anything Stiles would have picked out for himself. He figured that was why he called Lydia in the first place, though, so he kept his mouth shut. He had never been good at hiding his emotions and that was clear by the pursed lips Lydia had gracing her face. 

“Pick one and get changed. You have,” Lydia paused to look at the thin, golden watch on her wrist, “approximately twenty minutes before you’re going to be late for Mr. McHotty,” she finished with a smirk. Stiles rolled his eyes dramatically as he chose the middle outfit and walked to the bathroom. 

“Of all the Mc’s, you choose McHotty?” Stiles judged as he pulled off his too-baggy clothes and pulled on the jeans Lydia had chosen. They were entirely too tight but Stiles figured that might have been the point. Stiles offered, “What about McFine? McWonderful? McFoxy? Mc...Sterious?” Lydia laughed at that one and Stiles smiled, pleased with himself, as he pulled on the button down. He left the buttons undone so it hung open at the front and he ignored the way the sleeves dangled well past his fingertips. He walked out with his arms held in front of him, a concerned look on his face. 

“You’re supposed to roll them up," Lydia explained. "That will show off your forearms and your biceps, which I do have to admit have filled out considerably since high school, Stilinski,” Lydia said with admiration in her tone. 

Stiles grinned at her and flirted, “You should see the rest of me.” Lydia narrowed her eyes at him as she rolled up his sleeves, only stopping to give him further instruction. 

“Can you button this up?” Lydia asked. When Stiles hesitated, she crossed her arms in front of her chest and said, “Let me rephrase. Button up the shirt, Stiles.” Stiles groaned and rolled his head back dramatically as he stared at the ceiling. 

“That makes me look so formal!” Stiles complained, resting his hands on his hips. “I don’t want to look like a high schooler on a first date, Lyds, I want to look like the sheriff of a police department who is no longer a skinny, defenseless virgin,” he admitted. Lydia moved closer to him and pulled the shirt together with a rough tug. She buttoned it slowly, her eyes darting from the buttons to his eyes as she licked her lip gloss-covered lips. 

“Imagine this for me, will you?" Lydia asked as she worked on the shirt. Stiles nodded as she continued, "Derek will have to take the time to unbutton each and every button, his hot breath hitting your face, his hard body pressed up against yours…” Stiles closed his eyes, the corner of his lips pulling up with every press of her fingers. Stiles could picture it, more than he would have liked considering he had to be put together for their first date. Stiles let out an embarrassing whine when Lydia pushed at his chest. His eyes snapped open and he quickly realized that the person in front of him was _not_ Derek and his eyes widened comically.

“How dare you go after my bisexual heart like that?” Stiles asked, clearly offended if the hand over his heart said anything. 

Lydia’s laughter filled the air as she finished rolling up his other sleeve. “You look great, Stiles,” Lydia said seriously as she turned him around and pushed him toward the bathroom so he could get a good look at himself. Stiles stood surprised that he liked what he saw. It took him years and a lot of time at the academy to grow into his lankiness, but as he watched himself in the mirror before him, he had to admit he considered himself attractive. The soft brown button-up shirt hugged every curve of his muscles and the tight black pants hugged the curve of his ass. He knew there was no way Derek could resist him when he looked like that. Lydia seemed to agree as she eyed him closely. 

Stiles pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and muttered, “In another life, Lydia Martin, we would’ve ended up together.” Lydia huffed out a laugh and smacked his chest playfully.

“And what life would that be?” She asked, a smirk on her face. Stiles turned to smile at her before grabbing his keys from the side table and opening the door. 

“A life without Derek Hale,” Stiles said as the door shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is their first date, y'all. Thank you to everyone who is keeping up with these updates, it means so much. Until next week!! 
> 
> I made a [Tumblr](https://sparkandwolf.tumblr.com) specifically for my Sterek obsession so feel free to follow it for updates and snippets and other Sterek content. 
> 
> Also, feel free to follow my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/thatnerdemilyj) and let me know what you think. 
> 
> Please, please, please let me know what you think of this in the comments and leave kudos if you enjoyed it! See you next week!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The theme of this chapter is _fuck if i know_ courtesy of my fantastic beta, [Morgan](https://skylar102.tumblr.com/). For context, click [here](https://twitter.com/Skylar10211/status/1245467413694615552?s=20). 
> 
> It's their first date and Derek is a disaster™, Luke is the goodest boy, and Stiles is... pleasantly surprised. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

If Derek thought he was panicking before, he didn’t have any idea what he was feeling a few minutes before Stiles was due to knock on his door. He realized a few minutes prior that he didn’t even have Stiles’ _phone number._ That knocked the ability to call and cancel, which was what he was really considering. Luke had been staring at him for the last ten minutes as he walked from the front door to the counter, readjusting the beer on the table an inch, before heading to the door again. 

Headlights flooded through the window and Derek pressed his back against the door, an embarrassing gasp leaving his lips. He thanked whatever werewolves believed in that Stiles didn’t have hearing like he did. He heard a few muttered curses, a slamming door, and then the gravel underneath Stiles’ feet as he walked toward the door. Derek pushed himself off and cleared his throat as he placed his hand on the knob. 

He thought of opening the door before Stiles reached it, but if he opened the door, Stiles would know he had been waiting for him. If he waited for Stiles to knock, he would be right at the door and he would obviously know Derek had been waiting for him. He was trying to calculate the amount of time he should wait after Stiles had knocked to open the door as to not be so eager, but the knock had already come and Derek was already pulling open the door a lot quicker than he had planned to. 

Stiles paused with his hand ready to knock a second time before he said simply, “Hi.” He had a smile on his face and his other hand was filled with a few bags, but Derek barely noticed them in favor of letting his eyes wander up and down Stiles’ body. 

“Hi,” Derek breathed. He knew it was rude to not make immediate eye contact with Stiles, but the way his jeans were hugging his thighs and the way his shirt was clinging to his arms had Derek gulping audibly. 

“Are you gonna let me in?” Stiles asked, a teasing tone to his voice. “As much as I’d love to have you eat me up on your front porch, dinner will go bad very quickly and that would be a shame considering how delicious it is,” Stiles rambled as he pushed himself inside. Derek opened the door further and pressed his lips together, holding back his commentary on how similar Stiles was to Melissa. When Stiles' back was to him, he closed his eyes tightly and shook his head, internally chastising himself for his inability to control his heightened senses. 

Because he felt the need to say something, Derek offered, “It smells great.” Derek wasn't convinced he was talking about the food as he caught scent of Stiles. He couldn’t help but notice the natural way Stiles floated around his kitchen, finding everything he needed for dinner without even a question. He found a pot and started to fill it with water before placing it on the burner and turning on the heat. He leaned against the counter next to the stove when he was done, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he looked at Derek. He leaned so casually as if he owned the place. 

Something primal inside Derek seemed to break and before he could stop himself, his feet shuffled as he moved toward Stiles quicker than he intended. Derek didn’t sense any fear and didn’t hear any argument, so he kept moving. When he reached Stiles, he ran a hand through his hair, the softness of it sending a chill down Derek’s spine. Stiles dropped his arms to his side as if in surrender and when he tilted his head and jutted his chin up, presenting his neck, Derek’s heart jumped. He didn’t care that Stiles seemed to know exactly what he was doing as Derek crowded him, pressing his nose into Stiles' collarbone and trailing it up to his jaw. He caged Stiles in, one hand gripping the countertop, the other going to his hip to pull him even closer. 

Derek breathed in his scent - the overpowering aroma of cottonwood and gunpowder, the slight hint of Melissa’s perfume, and the smell of a home-cooked meal. Derek didn't have enough time to take all that he wanted in, because when he moved his hand from Stiles’ hip to balance himself, it brushed the simmering pot. He pulled it back with a hiss and pushed away from Stiles, clutching it to his chest. 

“Shit, the stove! I turned it on, I’m an idiot,” Stiles grumbled as he pulled Derek over to the sink to douse the burn on cold water. He watched as Derek’s skin started to heal and as if on reflex, Derek pulled it out of Stiles' grasp and hid the appendage behind his back.

“I’m fine,” Derek offered as he backed to the island, hoping to hide the healing skin from Stiles. He was trying to think of a way to explain the lack of injury, but Stiles seemed unconcerned. Derek watched as Stiles just nodded and grabbed for the pierogies, dropping them into the now boiling water. Derek waited for at least a little bit of panic at the burn or a questioning glance but nothing came. Derek couldn’t begin to wrap his head around it. He knew Stiles was a caring person, he saw it in the way he interacted with, well, everyone, but he didn’t seem to care about Derek at that moment. The thought had his heart sinking as he stretched his hand, breaking in the new skin so that he could press his palm to his shoulder. Stiles seemed to notice Derek's silence and peered over at him as if checking in. 

“My best friend, Scott, was bitten in high school,” Stiles explained as he busied himself stirring the pot. “We went investigating in the woods one night after a call came in for a dead deer and for some reason, a rogue alpha wanted asthmatic pushover, Scott, as his pack. I spent a long time being jealous of that, but,” Stiles trailed off as he flipped the pierogi and looked back at Derek as he continued, “Scott makes a great alpha,” Stiles commented. Derek felt his embarrassment rising. _Of course_ Stiles knew about werewolves. Scott was his alpha and Derek had smelled it on him the second they had met. Derek couldn’t hold back his growl at the second realization that Stiles had an alpha. Stiles smirked at Derek and took a small step forward before he noted, “You know, for someone who pretends to not like me, you are sure showing otherwise." 

“I wasn’t pretending,” Derek lied. They both knew it wasn't the truth, but neither of them commented on it. Stiles pressed their chests together and tilted his head once more as if urging Derek to scent him. Derek leaned forward, his nose brushing against Stiles’ chin and trailing up his jaw. He felt Stiles shudder as the tip of his nose brushed the lobe of his ear and Derek felt a bit more satisfied and a lot less panicked than he had before. 

“I knew when you scented me at the station, but I had my suspicions before. No one looks like _that_ and doesn’t have some supernatural ability,” Stiles added with a gesture to Derek’s body. Derek looked down at himself and shrugged. Stiles laughed brightly and turned back toward the pan to lift each pierogi with his spatula, ensuring the color was right before he plated them on the dishes Derek had laid out. 

“I figured we could eat on the porch, but you may be disappointed with the lack of wildlife. Between myself and Luke, there aren’t many animals who wish to make our acquaintance,” Derek joked. Stiles paused and gaped at him. Derek raised his eyebrows and took a plate from Stiles, concern rushing through him as he asked, “What?” 

“I think that’s the longest sentence you’ve ever said to me _and_ there was a joke," Stiles observed before his face broke into a grin and he teased, "who knew cooking for you was what it took for you to like me." Derek huffed out a laugh as he grabbed the beer from the table, motioning Stiles to follow him. He led Stiles out the back door and set his plate down on the small table he had adorning the porch. Stiles nodded appreciatively and took a seat, scooching the chair closer to Derek’s. Before Derek joined him, he walked to the door where Luke was waiting patiently. 

“Grać,” Derek said softly. Luke seemed to instantly relax as he bounded outside and into the woods. Stiles' eyes watched him disappear before he glanced at Derek. 

“I… Forgot you had a dog. He didn’t even try to greet me or beg for food. How did you do that?” Stiles asked, clearly impressed. Derek shrugged and sat beside him, peering down at the delicious-looking food in front of him. “Dig in!” Stiles exclaimed as he shoved an entire pierogi in his mouth. Derek rolled his eyes as he cut up his own and ate more neatly and slowly than Stiles. He practically moaned at the taste and when he glanced up, Stiles was smirking. 

“What?” Derek asked as he shoved another forkful into his mouth. 

“I told you I make a mean pierogi, don’t I?” Stiles said with satisfaction as he ate another. Derek nodded and narrowed his eyes in Stiles’ direction. Stiles didn’t seem to mind the glare as he started talking, his mouth full in a way Derek should not have found attractive. “Why Polish?” Stiles asked before he swallowed down the bite. Derek tilted his head as Stiles gestured toward Luke who was happily chewing on a stick twice his size. “Your commands are in Polish. Is there a reason?” Derek was about to remind him of their conversation when Stiles seemed to read his mind. “Another reason besides no one you know speaks Polish? You could have used an angrier language, like Russain or German,” Stiles explained, pointing his fork at Derek. Derek glanced at it judgingly and Stiles pulled it back quickly. 

Derek shrugged before he responded, “I wanted to learn a difficult language and a simple google search said Polish was one of the hardest,” he said without much thought. It was pretty much the only reason he chose it. When Stiles didn’t answer and just stared in his direction, he sighed and expanded on his answer. “I would love to photograph the castles and architecture there. It’s historical and from what I’ve seen in pictures, beautiful.” Stiles seemed more satisfied with his response as he popped open the tab on the beer and took a few large gulps. 

“Was this a good guess or?” Stiles motioned toward the beer and Derek smiled shyly as he shrugged his shoulders. 

“I might have run into Scott at the market. He’s… something,” Derek trailed off, unsure of how else to describe his interaction with the alpha. Stiles laughed boisterously, the sound gathering Luke’s attention as he ran up the porch and sniffed at Stiles with interest. Stiles rested a hand on his head and patted slowly, Luke preening into the touch. 

“You’ve practically met my entire family now, so that’s one less step for us to take in the future,” Stiles said as he took another sip from his beer. He tilted his chair back so the front legs lifted off of the ground while Derek choked on his own gulp. _Step? Future?_ Both words radiated in his mind as he watched Stiles look up at the darkening sky and hum in thought. 

“What?” Derek asked, finding himself increasingly intrigued about what could possibly be going on inside Stiles’ mind. 

Stiles glanced over at him before turning his chair to face Derek. “People only ever see you at the market and the gas station. What do you do out here all day?” Stiles asked with a tilt of his head as he tasted another sip of his beer. Derek shrugged and motioned toward Luke who seemed incredibly happy with the frequent attention from Stiles. Stiles laughed and leaned forward in his chair, narrowing his eyes at Derek in intrigue. “I’m gonna take a guess,” Stiles trailed off. Derek’s chair was already angled in Stiles’ direction, so he leaned forward to mimic his pose. 

“What are we guessing?” Derek asked, opening his legs and patting his lap. Luke abandoned Stiles and took his rightful place in between Derek’s legs, placing his head on Derek’s knee and sighing. 

“You wake up at 6 in the morning. You check your security cameras, for a reason I am still trying to figure out, and then you feed Luke. Close?” Derek nodded wordlessly and drank from his own beer. He thought that maybe Stiles was a better sheriff than he realized. “You read," Stiles offered. At Derek's slightly startled look, he continued, "I saw the books on your shelf so that one didn't take much investigation."

Derek waited for him to continue and when he didn't, he said, "That doesn't seem to fill up the entire day." Stiles took the challenge and a wide smile appeared on his face again.

"You tend to the house. You go to the market once a day and get what you need for dinner, breakfast, and lunch the following day. You come home and cook dinner and go to sleep,” Stiles finished, leaning back in his chair with an annoying but satisfied smirk. “How’d I do?” Derek wanted to argue with him, tell him all of the things he missed in his damn near perfect explanation of Derek’s boring life, but he couldn’t. Because Derek was apparently that predictable and that… sad. 

“I train Luke,” Derek added quickly like it was something much more exciting than it was. Stiles laughed, one that had him throwing his head back and his unoccupied hand going to his chest. 

“That’s why he’s so smart, then? Because you train him every day?” Derek shrugged in response and patted Luke’s head. His ears perked at the mention of training and Stiles scoffed. “Train. That’s the word you teach him in English?” Derek shrugged again and this time, couldn’t hold back his small chuckle. 

“Shouting ‘train’ isn’t gonna make him do anything. He just knows when it’s time _to_ train,” Derek said. Luke whined at the word, knowing that training meant treats. He glanced back and forth between Derek and Stiles, whining a little louder and more pathetically. Derek glanced at Stiles, who was barely containing his laughter at the sound. 

“Can you teach me? This can be like one of those trust exercises so he can learn to like me better,” Stiles said as he hopped up from his chair. Derek raised an eyebrow at him and stood up, reaching inside the door to grab the bag of treats he kept there. He snapped the bag in his pocket and pulled out a treat. Luke was in front of him in a second, sniffing the air and licking his lips. 

“Sit,” Derek ordered and as Luke complied, Derek tossed a treat in his direction. Stiles gaped at him and crossed his arms over his chest as Derek raised his eyebrows. Stiles scoffed in return, barely heard over the whine from Luke who was anxiously awaiting his next order.

“W dół,” Derek commanded. Luke lied down, his front paws sliding out from under him in the blink of an eye. Derek glanced at Stiles who was watching, seemingly impressed by the quickness. Derek tossed another treat in Luke’s direction and he swallowed it whole before tilting his head at Derek. Derek held a hand out, palm up to Luke and started walking backward. “Sztag,” Derek said slowly and only once before he turned and walked to the table. He grabbed his plate and let some leftover bacon pieces fall to the porch. He looked away from Luke, watching as Stiles stared him down just as intensely as the dog. Derek knew Luke wouldn’t move, not until Derek told him he could. “Łatwo." Luke raised up and walked slowly toward him, his eyes never leaving Derek’s as his tongue lapped across his lips.

“How did you--” Stiles seemed stunned, frozen from his spot beside Luke with his hands on his hips and his head tilted in question. Luke kept moving like Stiles hadn’t said a word, practically crawling toward Derek and the bacon littering the ground. 

“Pauza,” Derek said more sternly and Luke stopped, his feet unmoving from the position they left off in. Derek held up his palm again, this time without the verbal stay command and Luke watched him, licking his lips, his eyes darting back and forth from Derek’s to the treat he knew was waiting for him. “Dobry,” Derek praised. Luke’s ears shot up at the word, but he still hadn't moved. Derek knew he had trained Luke well, but seeing the attentive looks on Stiles’ face made it a little more worth it. 

“If I went over to him right now, what would happen?” Stiles asked as he took a cautious step toward Luke. Derek smiled and kept his palm up, motioning with his other hand for Stiles to give it a try. Even with Stiles moving toward him, Luke’s eyes stay on Derek, trusting him that Stiles wasn’t a threat. 

“He will ignore you. Until I gave him the command not to,” Derek decided. Stiles stopped and looked up from Luke to Derek, a wide smile on his face. 

“This is incredible. How does he get the treat?” Derek saw the twitch in Luke’s ears at the word and smirked. He was ready to go and Derek didn’t want to push him too much during an impromptu session, so Derek took a deep breath and let his palm fall to his side. 

“Iść,” Derek said excitedly. Luke took off, his back paws digging into the ground and tossing up dirt and grass as he launched forward. He was at the bacon in seconds, practically inhaling the treat once he was there. Stiles let out a holler and clapped his hands and Derek couldn’t help but smile. 

“Dobry, Luke. Good boy!” Stiles praised as he ran to the porch. “That was amazing, _incredible_. I’ve never seen a dog listen that _well_. Wow, Derek, I--” Derek wasn’t sure what came over him; he should have put more thought into it, should have waited for Stiles to make the first move. He should have taken into account the leftover alpha adrenalin that always shot through him when he trained Luke, but he hadn't. Derek couldn’t think in 'should have's anymore because Stiles’ lips were on his and he never could have imagined they would feel like _that_. Stiles lips moved in desperation against his, his hands winding around Derek’s waist, underneath the leather jacket he was rarely without. Their bodies were pressed close, heat matching heat and grind matching grind. Derek felt like a man starved - one who hadn’t eaten in days and was finally getting a taste at his favorite meal - the minute Stiles tongue brushed against his bottom lip. There was a chance Stiles’ taste was the sweetest he’d ever had. 

Derek moved them, pushing Stiles back until he hit the edge of the patio table with a grunt. Stiles tore at the jacket on Derek's arms, their lips never straying from their rhythm. His tongue scorched hotly over Derek’s and he had to hold in a primal growl at the more insistent press of Stiles’ hips. Stiles rid Derek of his jacket and his hands moved to grip the bottom of Derek's newly exposed shirt. Derek slid his hands down underneath Stiles’ ass and lifted, placing Stiles on the table so their mouths were at equal footing. He started pulling at Stiles' shirt, a grunt leaving his lips when he could barely get it free from his tight pants. 

Luke chose that moment to bark, a pleading and confused noise that Derek ignored in favor of sucking Stiles’ bottom lip into his mouth. He gave up his useless attempts at pulling off Stiles’ shirt and ran his hands along the strong muscles of his back instead. Stiles moaned into the kiss and the sound had Derek’s dick hardening against his jeans. He kept reminding himself to breathe but he couldn’t fully pull away from Stiles to take in the oxygen he wasn't quite convinced he needed. Instead, he traced open mouthed kisses down Stiles’ neck, something he had wanted to do for days. 

He heard a low growl and honestly wasn’t sure if it was him or Luke. Stiles answered the unspoken question with a breathy whisper in his ear. 

“I think-- Luke, he thinks I’m hurting you-- Maybe,” Stiles stuttered breathlessly. 

Derek regretfully ripped his lips from Stiles’ neck and growled back at Luke, his eyes momentarily glowing blue. “Dość,” Derek barked, his voice deep and firm. Luke whined and took a few steps back before sitting down with a huff. Derek rolled his eyes and felt Stiles chuckle in his chest where they were still pressed together. It rumbled through Derek in the most pleasant way. He turned back toward Stiles and felt his breath catch in his throat at the slight swell of his bottom lip and the flush in his cheeks. He ran his thumb over the swollen skin and smiled softly when he heard Stiles’ heartbeat quicken. Stiles cleared his throat and removed his hands from their hold on the bottom of Derek’s shirt, smoothing out the creases from the tightness of his grip. 

“We should probably go inside," Stiles said softly. Derek frowned as Stiles continued, "It’s starting to get dark and who knows what kind of animals you get out here,” Stiles teased. Derek peered down at him with a raise of his eyebrows and Stiles slapped his chest with a laugh. “If you make a wolf joke, I’ll assume that kiss threw me into an alternate dimension where Derek Hale has a sense of humor.” Derek couldn’t help but laugh with him and was unable to stop himself from leaning down once more and placing a gentle kiss to Stiles’ bottom lip. He lingered only long enough for Stiles to kiss him back. 

“I’m hilarious,” Derek deadpanned before he turned to gather their dishes. Stiles' laughter sounded again and Derek was entirely too pleased with himself. Stiles grabbed the dishes from Derek’s hand and made his way inside, leaving Derek to gape after him. “You cooked, I do the dishes. Isn’t that the usual way people do things?” Derek asked. Stiles smirked over at him as he started the water at the kitchen sink, rinsing off the plates before Derek could stop him. 

“Well, ‘usual’ people usually wait until the end of the night to mark their dates,” Stiles said, reaching a wet hand up to the small bruise forming on his neck. Derek blushed, knowing he was practically unable to stop the natural instinct of marking Stiles that had been wavering through his entire being since they met but he still felt bad about it. They hadn’t even talked about if it was okay, or if Stiles was even into that, or if Stiles wanted any marks, _oh god_. Seemingly sensing his panic, Stiles waved his hand in Derek’s direction and said, “You’re not the first werewolf to mark me, Derek.” Those weren’t exactly the most comforting words and caused a surge of jealousy to shoot through Derek, eventually becoming a low growl in his chest. 

“I’m not?” Derek asked through gritted teeth. His voice was strained as he tried to control the urge to bite down on the drop of water trailing from where Stiles’ hand had been moments before. 

“Relax, Sourwolf,” Stiles teased, “the only other werewolf to mark me was Scott. And that was like, a pack thing, I guess. To prevent some alpha from kidnapping me? Something like that,” Stiles said nonchalantly. Derek felt the whine forming before he could push it back. Stiles shook his head and grumbled. “You werewolves and your possessiveness, jeez,” Stiles mumbled to himself, full when knowing that Derek could hear him. Apparently, Stiles figured it was best to change the subject as he asked, “You said, earlier, that you wanted to photograph Poland. Is that what you do?” 

Derek nodded slowly and said easily, “It is.” Photography was something he didn't mind talking about so he continued, “I’ve been doing it for almost 15 years now." That seemed to surprise Stiles as he stopped scrubbing the dish in the sink. 

“What do you photograph?” Stiles asked as he rinsed the dish and put it aside to dry. He seemed a mixture of genuinely interested and shocked that Derek actually told him personal information and Derek wasn’t sure why that had him blushing. “Please tell me it’s naked men, cause I would _love_ to see your portfolio if so,” Stiles teased. Derek stared at him unamused, but Stiles just smirked.

“I mostly commission for consumer products. Food and furniture, mostly,” Derek said as he handed his plate to Stiles to wash. Stiles tilted his head as he finished scrubbing and set it to dry with the other. 

“What do you _like_ to photograph?” Stiles added. Derek stopped cleaning the counter and peered over at Stiles to see he had that adorable sideways smile on his lips that made Derek really want to kiss him again. 

He took a deep breath before speaking again, “Would you like to see?” Stiles seemed to light up at the suggestion and stood, waiting for whatever Derek had to show him. Derek gestured toward the couch before walking over to his desk to grab his laptop. He pulled up his portfolio and shook the anxiety off of his shoulders before stalking back toward Stiles. He sat down and kept plenty of room between them for his own sanity, but Stiles had other plans. He slid closer, their shoulders and thighs pressing so closely together that Derek had to breathe deeply to calm himself. It was a dire mistake, he realized, once he got a whiff of Stiles’ incredible scent. It took everything in him to not press Stiles back against the couch and make him smell more like _his_. 

“Is that Luke?” Stiles asked in awe as he pointed at a photo of Luke that Derek had taken in Colorado a few years prior. Derek nodded and glanced at Luke who had perked up at the sound of his name. Stiles called him over and pressed their foreheads together. “Look at that beautiful boy. You’re so photogenic, huh, Buddy?” Stiles asked as he rubbed up and down Luke’s sides. Derek thought that Luke was smiling just as wide as Stiles. When Stiles was done giving Luke sufficient rubs, he leaned further into Derek, reaching across him to scroll through the photos on his own. There were a lot, to say the least, as Derek had spent the last 15 years traveling with his camera. He had photos of oceans, mountains, forests, sunsets and sunrises, storm clouds and clear skies. Each one told a bit of his story and it felt oddly intimate to be connected to Stiles while he scrolled through the folder he had never shared with anyone else. 

“Stiles?” Derek asked softly when Stiles stopped scrolling. His eyes seemed to be stuck on one photo; one that Derek remembered taking on one of his first trips with a camera. He was adventuring in the Blue Ridge Mountains when he came across a couple having a childish snowball fight. He stayed hidden in the trees, capturing every throw, every loving smile, every offered kiss. The pair had stopped and looked out toward the mountain like they were struck by its beauty and then they screamed at the top of their lungs. One had tossed a handful of snow into the air, like a celebration and Derek captured it all. He looked back at that picture often as it was one of his favorites and it made his heart jump that Stiles seemed to like it. 

“Do you know their story?” Stiles asked as he looked up at Derek. He was so close, close enough to feel every breath Stiles took.

“The man on the left had a ring in his pocket for when they reached the top of the mountain,” Derek recalled with a smile. 

Stiles beamed back at him and sighed happily, “That’s so fucking cute." Derek nodded in agreement and leaned forward to place his laptop on the coffee table in front of them. Stiles didn’t move, their bodies still pressed together with Stiles hand draped across his lap, his fingers playing with a loose thread on his shirt. “Why photography?” Stiles asked after a few moments of peaceful silence. Derek wanted to answer him; wanted to tell him about the photos of his family that burned in the fire that killed them, how all he had left was the fading memories of the smell of his mother’s blueberry muffins and his father’s cologne. But he couldn’t - not yet. 

“Do you want another beer?” Derek asked, his breath mingling with Stiles' at their closeness. Derek needed to change the subject and was grateful when Stiles didn’t push. Instead, Stiles shook his head and their noses skimmed at the movement. Derek tilted his head as he moved his nose across Stiles' cheek and down his jaw, breathing him in again. He held back a groan as their scents mingled and Stiles was smelling more and more like his. He moved back up and felt Stiles' hot breath against his lips as he exhaled quicker than usual. Derek liked that he had any kind of effect on Stiles, especially when he assumed Stiles had the upper hand in that department. 

“I should get going,” Stiles said, but he made no move to get up. One hand gripped solidly at Derek’s waist while the other moved to thread itself in Derek’s hair. He tugged softly and Derek’s eyes slotted closed at the feeling and he moved his own hands to Stiles’ hips. They were much farther away than he wanted them. Derek’s eyes shot open when his mind seemed to realize what Stiles had said.

“I thought--" Derek cut himself off, recalling his many practiced attempts at kicking Stiles out, but after the night they had, his mind seemed to toss all excuses away. "I thought you would spend the night,” Derek said, his voice unrecognizably soft to his own ears. Stiles tugged at Derek's hair so he could search his eyes. 

“I thought you didn't have a spare bedroom,” Stiles mocked, repeating what Derek had said at the station. Derek resisted the urge to roll his eyes and opted instead to push Stiles so he was laying flat on the couch. 

“I have a couch.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I have a couch" is one of my favorite lines I've ever written. Next week is when the E rating becomes in effect. So, be EXCITED. I love you all that are reading, subscribing, leaving kudos and commenting. It honestly means so much to me <3 
> 
> I made a [Tumblr](https://sparkandwolf.tumblr.com) specifically for my Sterek obsession so feel free to follow it for updates and snippets and other Sterek content. (There's not much on it now, but there will be, PROMISE!)
> 
> Also, feel free to follow my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/thatnerdemilyj) and let me know what you think. 
> 
> Please, please, please let me know what you think of this in the comments and leave kudos if you enjoyed it! See you next week!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is where the E rating comes into effect. After that, it's full of softness and teasing and reassurances. 
> 
> This was a particularly fun chapter to write and provided many inside jokes between my wonderful beta, [Morgan](https://skylar102.tumblr.com/), and I. 😘

_“I have a couch.”_

Derek tilted his head and raised his eyebrows at Stiles in question. Stiles let out a laugh before pulling Derek’s head down, their lips connecting for the second time that night. Derek wasn’t sure he would ever get used to the spark that shot through him with every one of Stiles’ touches. Derek settled between Stiles’ open knees, one elbow resting above his shoulder and his other hand gripping the front of Stiles’ shirt to pull him closer. He needed Stiles closer - he had since the first moment they met. 

Stiles’ hands were gripping the skin at his waist, pushing underneath his shirt to feel his heated skin. Derek bit down on Stiles’ lower lip, pulling it into his mouth and sucking softly. The sound Stiles made was enough to have his hips jutting forward. He had tried to keep them hovering above Stiles’, unsure how much control he would lose with the friction, but he should have known all semblance of control was out the window. Stiles thrust up at the same time and their hips connected, twin moans erupting from both of their mouths. Stiles’ hands moved to his back, pushing his shirt up with each caress until it reached his chest. 

“Wait,” Stiles said and Derek huffed out a breath of concern. He didn’t want to wait, he had waited long enough. Stiles sat up and Derek knelt between his legs. Stiles pushed the shirt up as far as it would go and Derek raised his arms as Stiles pulled it off. Stiles stared for a moment, letting his fingertips skim across every crevice of Derek’s abdomen. Derek watched his hands closely, the way they seemed to memorize every inch of skin that was now in front of him. His stare was so intimate that Derek felt a chill climb down his spine. He grasped at Stiles’ wrists with his hands and pulled them above his head. Stiles complied, but when Derek’s hands went to the bottom of his shirt, he hurriedly pulled the fabric down. Derek furrowed his eyebrows, a pout on his lips from the momentary pause.

“You look like a goddamned Greek god, Derek. There’s no way you’re taking off my shirt,” Stiles argued, a very serious look on his face. Derek tilted his head and almost gaped at Stiles. He found it hard to believe that Stiles didn’t see how absolutely perfect he looked, especially from Derek's vantage point on top of him. He wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to see Stiles without his clothes - to press their skin together and blend their scents - so he pushed up from the couch, raising his eyebrows at Stiles as he reached frantically after him. 

“I want you naked. Have since I had you pressed up against your office door,” Derek said slowly. Stiles nodded just as slowly and stood in front of Derek. With their new vertical position, Derek decided to savor the moment, unbuttoning Stiles’ shirt starting from the top. He pushed himself closer and pressed a few kisses onto Stiles' neck, gentle at first, but his senses were overwhelmed at their closeness. He bit down on the tendon in Stiles’ neck and Stiles heaved out a moan that reverberated through Derek’s entire body. He sucked at the mark, his tongue running along the teeth marks deliberately.

“Lydia was right,” Stiles said softly. All of Derek’s motions stopped as he stared at Stiles whose eyes widened almost comically - almost - and if he hadn’t said Lydia’s name, Derek might have laughed. “She picked out this shirt!” Stiles said quickly. Derek raised an eyebrow, wanting more of an explanation than that. “She said I would want something you could take your time with and she was right, but taking your time doesn’t mean stop, please don’t stop,” Stiles begged. There was no way Derek could say no when Stiles presented his neck, the marks from Derek's teeth darkening with each passing moment. Derek smiled, satisfied. 

“I’m going to ruin this shirt,” Derek said simply. Stiles nodded encouragingly as Derek ripped the shirt open, the remainder of the buttons scattering across the floor. It was dramatic and messy and Derek thought that Stiles was holding in his laughter as much as his moans, but he wanted Stiles naked and he needed it now. Derek pulled off the undershirt just as quickly as the buttons were strewn and he pressed a line of kisses down Stiles’ neck and chest. He watched Stiles’ face closely as he licked down his abdomen and to the edge of his jeans before dropping to his knees in front of Stiles. 

“Oh, fuck, Derek,” Stiles whined as he threw his head back in apparent disbelief. Derek took his time undoing his belt and dragging the zipper down. Stiles threaded the fingers of one hand in Derek’s hair, the other grasping at his shoulder. Derek pulled the jeans down Stiles' hips, only hesitating to be sure the boxers came down with them. He didn’t have a chance to pull them all the way down because Stiles’ gorgeous cock was in front of him and his hunger overwhelmed him. He surged forward and swallowed Stiles' length as far as he could, his skin tingling at the breathless gasp that pushed from Stiles' lungs.

Derek hummed at Stiles’ taste, the bitterness of his precome lingering on his tongue as he bobbed his head rapidly. Stiles’ grip in his hair and on his shoulder both tightened with each gulp and Derek glanced up at him through his eyelashes. Stiles was staring down at him, his bottom lip sucked in between his teeth and his chest heaving. Derek reached up his hand - paying close attention to the smoothness of Stiles' abs and chest - to squeeze at one of Stiles’ nipples, smirking to himself at the broken moan it caused. Stiles' head was thrown back in pleasure and Derek could tell he was trying to control the thrust of his hips. Derek pulled off with a messy pop and Stiles’ eyes darted back to his, a much too silent plea for Derek to keep going. 

“Move, Stiles. Make noise. No one can hear you out here,” Derek said. It sounded more threatening than he planned, but Stiles didn’t seem to care as he gripped tighter at Derek’s hair and guided his mouth to his cock once more. Derek moaned around the hot flesh as Stiles thrust his hips quicker. Each time his dick hit the back of Derek's throat, he let out a deep groan that seemed to grow louder and more enthusiastic with each thrust. Derek ran his hands up Stiles’ legs, caressing the backs of his thighs before grasping two handfuls of his ass. He pulled his cheeks apart and ran a finger gently over the crease, stopping to rub lightly at Stiles’ hole. 

“Derek, god, please!” Stiles shouted. His breath panted out and his sloppy thrusts lost their rhythm and Derek was all too aware of how close to the edge Stiles was. He grasped Stiles’ ass again, this time to pull him closer and take as much of Stiles' throbbing cock into his throat that he could. Stiles gasped as Derek hollowed his cheeks and let his throat constrict with a swallow, and he came with an almost primal growl. Derek gulped and groaned when he felt Stiles’ hot come flow down his throat. He drank Stiles in - the sounds, the feeling, the taste, the scent of bone deep arousal bursting through the air - and had to hold Stiles up by his hips when he finally pulled back. He lapped at Stiles’ cock, licking up all of the remaining come as it would be a shame to waste any of his unbelievable taste. Stiles tugged at Derek's hair weakly as he whined. 

“Sorry,” Derek said unconvincingly as he stood up. Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck and pulled him into a steamy kiss that was mostly tongue and teeth, but Derek didn’t mind when Stiles sucked his tongue into his mouth, letting it linger for a few moments before pulling away. “Can you stand?” Derek asked shyly. Stiles huffed out a laugh that both of them seemed equally surprised by as he placed his hand on Derek’s cheek, patting gently. 

“I _can_ , but maybe we should sit,” Stiles replied with a smirk on his face that had Derek tilting his head in intrigue. Stiles pulled him to the couch and pushed him down roughly before his lap was filled with Stiles. Derek went to protest, but sharp nails ran down his chest and a hiss escaped his lips instead.

Derek grasped desperately at Stiles’ hips and stuttered, “Stiles, what are you--” Stiles surged forward and pressed their lips together frantically. His hands fumbled with the button at Derek’s waistband and when he finally undid it, Derek groaned into the kiss. Stiles reached down and grasped Derek’s cock in his fist, pumping it at a frantic pace. Derek thrust his hips as best he could with Stiles’ weight on top of him - even the dry rub of his palm felt like heaven to Derek - and he bit down on Stiles’ lip to suppress the growl building inside of him. He had to hold himself back from drawing blood. 

“Bite me, Derek," Stiles urge, "It's okay, I know it’s instinct so bite me when you come,” Stiles gasped with every word, his neck craning as if on display. Derek tried to hold himself back - Stiles knew exactly what buttons to push - as he twisted and pulled at Derek's heated cock with one hand. He gripped the back of Derek's neck as he pressed his nose underneath Derek's jaw, his hot breath grazing his skin before his teeth sank in. 

Derek howled as he came. He matched Stiles’ bite, their moans echoing through the house as Derek sucked and licked another mark into Stiles’ skin. He pulled away enough to throw his head back, his chest heaving and hips pushing into Stiles to chase the feeling of his hand. Stiles didn’t stop, milking Derek for every last drop of his come until Derek caught his eyes. Stiles stared down at him, his cheeks flushed and his eyes filled with hunger. 

His hand stopped and Derek couldn’t hold back his whine at the loss of heat. He lost his breath when Stiles dipped his head and licked a stripe of come off of Derek’s stomach. Derek gasped for air that tasted and smelled like them - a mix of _Derek and Stiles_ that had him growling - before he grabbed Stiles’ arms and pressed him down onto the couch. He ground their hips together, rubbing his come onto Stiles’ stomach and darkening the bruises on his neck. He had never felt more in touch with his wolf as he marked Stiles as his own. 

“Der-- Derek,” Stiles’ voice broke him out of his intense focus and he jumped back, hitting the other edge of the couch with a thud. Stiles followed after him, laying his body on Derek’s; a welcome warmth and comfort that had Derek’s heart slowing. “Hey, hey, wait. It’s okay,” Stiles reassured with a gentle hand on Derek's face. Derek watched him carefully. He knew he had lost control, but Stiles smelled like him and tasted like him and had his marks and--

Derek shook his head to restrain himself. “Stiles, I--” Stiles sat up to cut off his apology and that's when Derek saw the bruises on his neck and the steady drying come spread out on his stomach and something rumbled low in his chest. 

“We should move to the bedroom. That would make the most sense, right?” Stiles rested his hands on his hips from where he straddled Derek's waist before glancing down at himself and frowning. “Maybe a quick shower first. I have a change of clothes in my car,” Stiles commented as he gestured to the ripped shirt on the ground. 

Derek shook his head in disbelief and just to make sure he wasn't going crazy, he asked, “You’re staying?” Stiles nodded hesitantly as Derek eyed him. “I didn’t… ask you to stay,” Derek noted. There were equal parts of him that wanted Stiles to stay and needed Stiles to leave. He felt himself gaining back his control and he wanted to use it with conviction and maintain his plan for Stiles to leave his house and never come back. But Stiles tilted his head at him, that sideways smile on his face, and Derek couldn’t. 

“I’m going to hop in the shower while you take care of whatever you need to do down here. Then you can come join me, okay?” Stiles surprised him by connecting their lips in a slow kiss, humming into it before pushing himself off and hopping up the stairs. “C’mon, Luke!” Stiles called behind him. Luke looked at Derek in question and Derek sighed, giving him a hesitant thumbs up before Luke bounded up the stairs after him. Derek watched the stairs for a moment and waited for Stiles to disappear before he let a smile sprout across his lips. 

* * *

Stiles let the water run over his skin and no matter how much he scrubbed his face, he couldn’t wipe the smile off of it. His hand swiped over his shoulder and he hissed in both pain and pleasure when his thumb brushed over one of the darkened bruises Derek had left. He had known that werewolves were possessive - he had spent a majority of his senior year of high school wearing one of Scott’s undershirts, drawing the line at sweatshirts or anything noticeable as he was trying to lose his virginity before college - and the achy reminder on his skin had his grin widening. 

He turned off the shower when he was done and a chill flooded through him when the warmth of the water was gone. He wrapped a towel around his waist as he stepped out and wiped the steam off of the mirror, jumping when he saw Derek in the reflection. 

“Warn a human, won’t you?” Stiles teased as he rested a hand over his chest to calm his fast-beating heart. Derek tilted his head when his eyes drifted down to Stiles' neck, seemingly catching sight of the marks plastered on Stiles’ neck. Instinctively, Stiles reached a hand up to cover the bruise Derek was eyeing. Derek growled deep in his chest and pushed Stiles’ hand away before running a gentle finger around the bruise. It was a ghost of a touch and Stiles felt his skin tingle as he held his breath, keeping his eyes on Derek’s face. 

“Does it hurt?” Derek asked softly. Stiles shook his head longer than usual until Derek glanced up at him like he was waiting for an answer. Stiles let out a breath, masking his nervousness with a laugh. 

“In a good way,” he whispered. Derek went to pull away, but Stiles tugged his hand back, pressing his palm against the bruise. Stiles’ eyes slid shut as Derek applied even more pressure. He bathed in the pain, a surge of need spiking through him - a need to _belong_ to Derek. His eyes shot open at the thought and a feeling of calm washed over him when his eyes connected with Derek’s. 

“Didn’t you say something about the bed?” Derek asked. There was need laced in his gaze, too, and it made Stiles’ heart jump to his throat. He nodded and as Derek moved to the door, he trailed a hand down Stiles’ arm to grab his hand, urging him to the bedroom. 

“Do you have clothes I can borrow? Mine are in my car and I can’t exactly go outside like this,” Stiles said as he gestured to the towel around his waist. Derek raised an eyebrow and walked over to his dresser. He pulled out a shirt and boxers and tossed them to Stiles before pulling out clothes for himself.

“I’m gonna…” Derek trailed off as he pointed his thumb toward the bathroom. Stiles nodded and sat on the bed, letting his eyes wander around the room. “Don’t-- touch anything,” Derek said, a bit of warning in his voice. Stiles held us his hands in surrender before placing them on the bed and leaning back. He kicked his feet playfully as Derek walked by and cheered himself when a small smile appeared on Derek’s lips. Once the door shut, Stiles took a more thorough look around. 

There wasn’t much to see; Stiles noted the lack of wall decor with a soft hum. He pushed himself off the bed and started pulling on the clothes. They smelled like Derek and Stiles made a mental reminder to apologize to Scott for the copious amount of teasing he gave him about his sense of smell because he was standing in the middle of Derek Hale’s room, leaning his head to the side in order to sniff his shoulder. 

Stiles sauntered over to the dresser. He repeated Derek’s words back to himself and decided against touching anything as he had a feeling there was a fine line to anger Derek and he wasn’t about to cross it. On top of the dresser was what looked like junk; a few pieces of charred wood, a copy of reading _This If You Want to Take Great Photographs_ that had Stiles’ chuckling and a black glove. He reached out to explore further but caught sight of Luke's judgemental gaze out of the corner of his eyes. “What are you gonna do, pup? Tell him?” Stiles said with a glare. Luke tilted his head as if in challenge and Stiles could have sworn he scoffed before he rested his head on the edge of his bed. His eyes closed for a moment and then one eye opened to glance at Stiles. “You’re terrifying, you know that?” 

Dere's voice chimed, “It’s why I keep him around,” and Stiles jumped, knocking his elbow into the dresser as he turned a bit too abruptly. He yelped and grabbed at it, clutching it to his stomach in pain. Derek watched with raised eyebrows, clearly amused as Stiles hopped around dramatically. Derek crossed his arms over his chest, a smirk on his face. 

“I think I’m gonna get you a bell. A nice pretty one that can clip onto your clothing,” Stiles said as he dropped his hands. At Derek's continued amusement, Stiles asked, “Maybe a little sympathy for the hurt you just caused?” Derek ran a hand through his damp hair and he walked toward Stiles until his knees hit the edge of the bed. Stiles wasn’t sure where this new confidence had come from, but he welcomed it with open arms - literally. Derek stood between Stiles’ legs and cupped his face in his hand, leaning down slowly. Stiles readied himself for a kiss, but Derek turned his head away. He dragged his nose down the shell of Stiles’ ear, over the bruise on his neck, and to his chest, breathing in deeply as he went. 

“You smell like me,” Derek observed, his eyes opening to glance back up to Stiles’. Stiles nodded and brushed his own nose over Derek’s cheek. 

“Does that make you want to kiss me as much as it makes me want to kiss you?” Stiles asked. He meant for it to be a joke - one of his lame pick up lines that never seemed to work - but the teasing tone wasn't quite there. He wanted Derek’s lips on his again; just one more kiss, one more touch, one more of whatever Derek wanted to give him before they slept. 

“I always want to kiss you, Stiles,” Derek admitted. He rested his forehead against Stiles’ and brushed their noses together before finally connecting their lips. Stiles gasped softly into it, his hands threading through Derek’s hair to pull him closer. He didn’t understand what he was feeling. He had kissed his fair share of men over the last decade - college was kind to him in that department, being a police officer even kinder - but he had never felt the way he did when Derek’s lips touched his, when his tongue slid across his, or when his teeth sank into the flesh of his bottom lip. Derek pulled back too quickly and Stiles’ chased his lips with a low whimper. 

“You go to sleep early so that you can wake up with the sun, don’t you?” Stiles guessed and a smirk found its way to his lips at Derek's raised eyebrow. “I’m right, aren’t I?” Derek rolled his eyes, but nodded and Stiles pumped his fist in victory.

“Tomorrow, you’re coming with me.” Stiles gaped at him and glanced at the clock that read nine p.m. in bright letters. 

“And what time does the sun rise?” Stiles asked, though he feared the answer. 

“Five a.m.” Stiles groaned and fell back onto the bed, closing his eyes. 

“Dating you isn’t going to be easy, is it?” Stiles asked. He heard Derek stumble and when he opened his eyes, he could barely see anything besides what was lit up by the starlight. “Der?” Stiles said. 

“Is that what we’re doing? Dating?” Derek asked hesitantly. Stiles felt the bed sink next to him and rolled over to look at Derek. From what he could see, Derek’s eyes were downcast, looking at anything besides Stiles with his hand pressed against his shoulder. Stiles watched him for a moment, not answering his question as it had seemed obvious to Stiles. Yeah, it had only been one date, but Stiles expected more. Didn’t Derek? “I can feel you thinking,” Derek said with an unexpected teasing tone in his voice. 

“Is that one of your werewolf abilities? Telepathy?” Derek shook his head and furrowed his brow. Stiles rolled his eyes fondly and reached for Derek's hunched figure, pulling him down to lay next to him. Derek frowned when his head hit the pillow. “Relax,” Stiles urged as he wrapped his arm around Derek’s middle, nuzzling his face into the spot on Derek’s shoulder he'd been touching moments prior. Derek stiffened at that, so Stiles lifted his head to try and look at him.

Derek averted his eyes again before his stern voice said, “I don’t… cuddle." Stiles had to hold back a laugh at the sound of Derek using the word so seriously. 

“Cuddling is integral to dating,” Stiles reasoned as he nuzzled further into Derek. His head was pressed into Derek’s shoulder and every time he moved, Derek seemed to flinch. “Will you tell me about your shoulder?” Stiles asked softly. Derek moved then, pushing Stiles off of him reluctantly. 

“What about my shoulder?” Derek asked defensively. Stiles ran his fingers up Derek’s arm, across the opposite shoulder and up to cup his cheek in his hand. His heart softened when Derek leaned into his palm. 

“You rub your shoulder when you’re nervous or anxious or… stressed,” Stiles noted as he ran a comforting thumb over Derek’s cheekbone. 

Derek nodded slowly and whispered, “I do.” Stiles was good at his job, good at getting answers out of people, but something about the solidness in Derek’s tone warned him not to push. 

“You are full of secrets,” Stiles observed as he inched closer. He tried again, wrapping an arm around Derek’s waist so his fingers could trace soft patterns on his shirtless back. Derek watched him as he nodded again and Stiles thought he saw a flash of fear in his eyes. 

“Is that why you came here? To get answers?” Derek asked carefully. Stiles opened his mouth to speak but realized he had to be just as cautious in answering. Sure, a few years ago he would have answered without a thought, raving and ranting about how beautiful Derek was and how anyone in their right mind would pursue him if it meant seeing him like he was then; shirtless, exposed, lit up by starlight, a softness in his face that was often masked by the harsh light of day. 

“I came here because I like you and I want to get to know you. If that means a few of your secrets come out, they’re safe with me. I’m _really_ good at keeping secrets,” Stiles whispered. He leaned forward and brushed his lips to Derek’s; a chaste, simple kiss, different than the ones they had shared before. He thought it was different, at least, with the way that Derek kissed back hesitantly. Their previous kisses had been a rush of passion and lust, amplified by their instant mutual attraction and need for physical contact. Derek ran the back of his hand along Stiles’ neck and down his chest, snaking it around his waist to pull him closer like it was its own distinct answer to Stiles’ silent question. 

“We should sleep,” Derek said as he started to pull away. Stiles pouted and threw his leg around Derek’s before he could move too far. 

“I cuddle,” Stiles said without further explanation. Derek nodded in understanding and kept him close, his eyes blinking slowly with sleep. Stiles had a passing thought that Derek resembled a cat and it had him chuckling. He heard a soft sigh and looked down at Luke, his eyes pleading from where he sat in his own bed. “Doesn’t Luke sleep with you?” Stiles asked. 

Derek opened his eyes. “No, he’s a dog.” Stiles looked offended as he pouted at Derek. 

“He must get so lonely down there,” Stiles commented, hoping to guilt Derek into letting Luke join them. Stiles wasn’t kidding about loving cuddles. He used to love cuddling with Prada, Lydia’s devil spawn of a dog, and couldn’t imagine how cozy and warm Luke would be. 

“He has his stuffie,” Derek said with a yawn. Stiles craned his neck to see the small stuffed wolf underneath Luke’s paws. He was about to comment when Derek’s words hit him. 

“Did Derek Hale just say stuffie?” Stiles teased, failing to control his laughter. He saw Derek roll his eyes underneath his eyelids. 

“Go to sleep, Stiles,” Derek demanded, though not unkindly, pulling Stiles’ body closer to his. He tucked Stiles' head into his chest and inhaled deeply. Stiles could feel the shakiness of it presumably from the unfamiliarity of closeness. Stiles pressed a final soft kiss to his chest and cuddled closer, their bodies entwining any way they could. 

“Goodnight, Der,” Stiles mumbled. He felt the sleep take him over before he could hear Derek’s response. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week's update is filled with entirely too much softness (if there is such a thing) and _MURDER_ (Insert evil laughter here). 
> 
> I love you all that are reading, subscribing, leaving kudos and commenting. I say it every week, but it honestly means so much to me and I appreciate every single one of you!
> 
> If you're not already following, I made a [Tumblr](https://sparkandwolf.tumblr.com) specifically for my Sterek obsession so feel free to follow it for updates and snippets and other Sterek content. I am always accepting prompts and questions, so please give me a shout!
> 
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> 
> Please, please, please let me know what you think of this in the comments and leave kudos if you enjoyed it! See you next week!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warning: It's soft™ af. But also, the murder tag comes into effect starting now. 
> 
> Thank you, as always, to my wonderful beta, [Morgan](https://skylar102.tumblr.com/). Once you hit the end of the chapter, you'll see why this thank you is even more special than the usual ;) 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!

An unfamiliar ringing had Derek gasping awake, his eyes shooting open and glowing blue. His gaze darted around his room, letting his instincts guide his every move. When he saw nothing, he let his other senses take control. He didn’t smell anything out of the ordinary, he didn’t hear anything besides the ringing, and he didn’t feel--

Derek was suddenly aware of the pressure on his chest and the strange bend of his legs, even more so when the pressure on his chest lifted and a hand slapped him weakly on the shoulder. 

“Make it stop,” Stiles begged, pushing himself closer to Derek. He used the arm behind his head to cover one ear, pressing the other to Derek's chest to muffle the noise. Derek slammed his fist down on the clock harder than he should have judging by the crack that resounded through the room. “Does that mean we can go back to sleep?” Stiles grumbled as he pressed slow, gentle kisses on Derek’s chest. Derek huffed, not quite a laugh as he was still on high alert, as he patted Stiles' head softly. 

He wasn’t used to the sound of his alarm. Every night for twenty years, Derek had awoken from a nightmare and once he was awake, he could never seem to let himself rest again. Sometimes it was one in the morning and he would stare at the moon, reveling in the way it pulled at his instincts. Other times, it was six in the morning, just in time to watch the sunrise out the window of whatever motel room he had made his home for the night. It surprised him to wake to the overzealous chiming of his clock and the impatient hand belonging to his bed mate. 

“You’ll thank me later,” Derek promised as he pressed a kiss to the top of Stiles’ head. Stiles opened his eyes at that, glancing up at Derek with a soft, sleepy smile on his face. He pushed himself up so his face lined with Derek’s and pursed his lips for a kiss, squeezing his eyes shut as if to keep out the offending light. Derek cocked an eyebrow at him and said, “Morning breath is ten times worse in werewolves." Stiles didn’t seem to care as he leaned in and pressed their lips together. The soothing kiss after a nightmare-free sleep for the first morning in what felt like his entire life had Derek feeling  _ normal _ . 

“Good morning, sourwolf. And I’m  _ not  _ just talking about your breath,” Stiles teased as he ran his thumb along Derek’s bottom lip. “You don’t look nearly as happy to have me in your bed as I am to be in it,” Stiles noticed as he dragged himself fully on top of Derek. Derek brought his hands to Stiles’ hips, his thumbs rubbing small circles over the soft skin above his boxers - above  _ Derek’s  _ boxers - and something about seeing Stiles in his clothes set him off. 

He surged up and slammed their lips together with an unexpected force that had Stiles’ nails digging into Derek’s shoulders. Derek growled lowly in his chest, his grip on Stiles’ hips tightening with every swipe of their tongues. Stiles bit down on Derek’s bottom lip and pulled it into his mouth to suckle softly, a sharp contrast to the start of the kiss. Derek leaned back slowly so that Stiles would know to follow and ran his tongue along Stiles’ upper lip. He slid his hands underneath Stiles’ shirt, rubbing the skin of his back with his palms, pulling in Stiles’ addicting heat. 

“Sunrise,” Stiles muttered into Derek’s lips. Derek pulled away and raised his eyebrows at Stiles in surprise. “As much as I love morning sex, you wanted me to see the sunrise, right?” Though Stiles’ voice was calm, his breathing was heavy and his heart pounded wildly as he stared down at Derek. Derek shook his head and couldn’t help but smile up at Stiles. 

“There’s a pair of sweatpants in the bottom drawer you can borrow until I decide to let you get fully dressed,” Derek commented. Stiles rolled off of him and rested his hands on his stomach. 

“I should have known it was the clothes that set you off,” Stiles chastised himself as he watched Derek get out of the bed. Stiles reached for his ass in retaliation, but Derek saw the move from out of the corner of his eye and blocked it, wrapping his fingers around Stiles' wrist. “You like me in your clothes, I like you  _ without _ clothes. We all have our  _ things _ , Derek,” Stiles observed as he twisted himself out of Derek’s grip and hopped out of the bed in one smooth motion. 

“You can use the bathroom first, but be quick," Derek warned, "we’ve only got fifteen minutes before the sun starts coming up." Stiles nodded and saluted him before stumbling into the bathroom. Derek sat on the bed and glanced over to where Luke had been waiting patiently on his bed with his head tilted as he watched Stiles and Derek interact. Derek called him over with his usual hand gesture and Luke rested his head on Derek’s leg for his morning pats. Derek rested a hand on his head gently before scratching, paying special attention to his ears as Luke sighed in contentment. 

“Has Luke been here the entire morning?” Derek looked at Stiles as if he was crazy when he realized Stiles had entered the room again. 

“Where else would he have been?” Derek asked. Stiles shook his head in astonishment and sat down next to Derek, patting his own lap for Luke. Luke glanced up at Derek, not making any moves toward Stiles. 

Stiles gaped at him, his eyes narrowing into a glare as he said, “He’s either whipped or incredibly well trained and I’m starting to think those mean the same thing to you." Derek gave a thumbs up to Luke who moved eagerly between Stiles’ legs so he could rest his chin on Stiles’ thigh. “There’s a good boy!” Stiles cooed as he ran his hands over Luke’s head and down his back, ruffling his fur. Luke let out a groaning noise and Stiles laughed gleefully. Derek stood to grab his clothes and walked to the bathroom, leaving Luke in the little bit of heaven he knew Stiles was giving him. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror and for the first time in a while, he didn’t hate what he saw. The bags under his eyes were still present, but not nearly as prevalent as they usually were. His hair was a mess, but knowing that mess from Stiles’ hands carding through the strands moments before had him holding back a smile. He could deal with that. He brushed his teeth quickly and splashed his face with water before walking back into the room. 

He cleared his throat when he saw Stiles laying on the bed with Luke at his side. “Really? I leave the room for two minutes?” Derek scolded. Stiles smirked at him and Luke's tongue flopped out, clearly too happy to care that his owner was upset. Derek sighed and opened the door which prompted Luke to bound off of the bed and down the stairs. Stiles followed him off the bed with a pout and a glare in Derek's direction as he pulled on his sweatpants. Derek only shrugged in response, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he stared at Stiles. He had a fleeting - but terrifying - thought that the morning had already been the most peaceful one he had since he arrived in Beacon Hills but was thrust out of it by Stiles' unhappy groan.

“We were bonding, Der! It is very important to me that your dog likes me,” Stiles stated as he stood up straight, ready for the day ahead. Derek rolled his eyes and started for the door to follow Luke down the stairs, but he turned quickly when he heard Stiles stumble after him. He grabbed at Stiles' hips to stop him from tumbling down the stairs and eyed him up and down hoping the judgment was clear in his gaze. 

“How did you become sheriff again?” Derek asked as his grip tightened around Stiles’ hips. 

Stiles glared at him again and with barely any humor in his voice, he said, “Hardy har har.” Stiles pulled away and stomped downstairs, walking to the door to open the sliding glass. “C’mon Luke!” Stiles started to step out but paused to turn back to Derek. “He’s not gonna follow me, is he?” Derek shook his head and pressed his lips together to conceal his smile before he moved to his desk to grab his camera bag. He double-checked the cameras around the property and when he saw no immediate danger, he closed them out.

When he turned, Stiles was right behind him and in sheer surprise, he yelled, “Jesus, Stiles!” Derek would have to evaluate his dimmed instincts at a later date as he should have noticed Stiles had moved closer. Stiles’ eyes widened as he reached up to pat Derek’s cheek. 

“You have keen werewolf senses and you still have security?” Stiles commented. It wasn’t quite a question - though Derek wasn't sure if he meant it to be one - and Derek pushed past him as he thought about his answer. 

“I do,” Derek decided to answer without any further explanation. Stiles nodded and Derek was grateful that he made his way outside, not pressing the issue any further. He could feel the curiosity wafting off of the sheriff, but his lips remained pressed together as he stared at Luke. Derek followed his eye line and saw Luke rocking back and forth on his front paws and Derek gave him the hand command to set him free. Luke bounded into the woods with Derek and Stiles following behind him. 

“Wandering into the woods with a man I barely know may not be the smartest decision I’ve ever made,” Stiles noted with a thoughtful frown on his face. Derek extended his arm to push Stiles off of the path in retaliation and Stiles gasped at him as he tried to retain his balance. “Wounded, Derek. Absolutely wounded.”

Derek held a few branches back so Stiles could walk through them and said, “If I was going to murder you, I wouldn’t have invited you to stink up my house first. I know you have a pack." Derek didn't like how bitter the words tasted on his tongue. 

“You make a good point. Though, I think having me wake up at the ass crack of dawn counts as murder in some statutes,” Stiles grumbled as he walked through the final bit of brush. Derek heard the small intake of breath as Stiles froze and was reminded of the similar reaction he had the first time he saw the clearing. “Derek, what…?” Derek stepped up next to him and the corner of his lip raised when Stiles’ hand blindly found his. 

“I told you it was worth it,” Derek teased as he tugged Stiles forward. Luke was sprinting in rapid circles, his paws tossing up small amounts of dirt and grass every time he pushed off, his happy barks echoing through the clear air. Derek took out his camera and snapped a few shots of him bounding through the tall brush. While he was distracted, Stiles wandered toward the pond at the far end of the clearing and Derek raised his camera for a better view. The sun was still below the treeline, soft rays escaping through the branches to case perfect shadows across Stiles' face as he walked. Derek took a few hesitant steps closer and photographed Stiles as he skimmed his long fingers across the water. 

“I didn’t know this place existed,” Stiles said in disbelief. Derek couldn't resist snapping a few more photos of Stiles walking along the shore, his fingertips ghosting over the water and across Luke’s back before his palms brushed the tops of the tall grass surrounding him. Derek captured every second of Stiles moving closer to him, his serious faces turning into smiles when he noticed the camera. Derek thought he looked embarrassed when he reached Derek and asked, “What are you doing?” 

“I’m taking pictures,” Derek responded with a shrug. 

Stiles scoffed and said, “I see that." He furrowed his eyebrows and glanced behind him. "But the sun is rising over there and I thought we came to take pictures of that." Luke settled down in the grass and Derek sat in front of him, leaning his back against Luke’s solid body. The dog huffed out a sigh at the weight but didn't make any moves as Derek sank against him. Stiles tilted his head at the two before settling himself in between Derek's legs and leaning back against him. 

“I can take pictures of the sunrise every morning,” Derek stated.  _ I don’t know how many mornings I’m going to get with you _ , he thought sadly. As if sensing Derek's afterthought, he rested his hands on Derek’s thighs, rubbing comforting patterns onto the fabric with his fingers. They watched the sunrise in total silence and that sense of peace Derek had felt that morning flooded into him again as he pressed a gentle kiss to Stiles' head. 

“It’s so peaceful out here, I could fall asleep,” Stiles commented as he settled further into Derek’s warmth. He turned his head into Derek’s chest and nuzzled - a very werewolf move, Derek thought - and while he was distracted, Stiles removed the camera hanging from his shoulder. 

“Now, what are  _ you  _ doing?” Derek asked with a raise of his eyebrow. Stiles pushed away from him and although Derek was saddened by the loss of Stiles’ touch, he felt his cheeks warm as Stiles snapped a few photos of him. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had taken his photo. A small memory pushed to the forefront of his mind of Laura buying copious amounts of disposable cameras at the store to take pictures of anything she could. Laura had always wanted to remember everything and Derek never understood it until he glanced back at Stiles. 

“I’m not nearly as good of a photographer as you are, but in another life, you could have been a model,” Stiles commented as he frowned at the picture he had just taken before giving Derek an appreciative look. “It’s a damn shame you have clothes on right now because the sun is hitting your chest  _ perfectly _ .” Derek reached for him, grabbing onto the strap of the camera to tug Stiles forward. With an exaggerated ‘oomph’, Stiles let go of the camera and fell until his head nestled neatly on Derek’s lap. Luke peered around Derek to sniff interestedly at Stiles' face before licking his cheek sloppily. Derek wasn’t sure Stiles could smile any wider. 

“That means he likes you,” Derek commented with a sideways smile on his lips as he thought back to Stiles' mention of its importance. He wasn’t sure why, but it was just as important to Derek, too. He let the flutter in his heart pass as the sun broke over the trees and the field erupted in oranges and golds. Usually, Derek would move around the open space, capturing the best angles where the rays shined over the pond and accentuated the colors of the leaves. He didn’t really feel like moving Stiles’ head off of his lap, though, so he stayed in place, snapping just enough pictures to feed him for a week. 

“I feel like I should have known about this place. Greenberg and I, we used to take hikes around his old man’s property like once a month, searching out fun and inevitable danger," Derek glanced down at him worriedly and Stiles laughed it off, patting Derek’s leg gently. “We never found any. Well,  _ together _ we didn’t. Scott and I found a bit..." Stiles said before he laughed and whispered, "a bite.” Derek sent a judgmental glance down at him but Stiles hadn't seemed to care as he laughed it off. 

“You mentioned Scott was bitten...” Derek trailed off, his camera lens shifting to capture the way Stiles' leg was draped over his and the way his long fingers spread out over Derek's thigh. There was a small trail of freckles on Stiles' neck that seemed to spread a million miles as he stretched his neck for a better view of the sunrise. Derek had known immediately that those pictures were going to be his favorite memories - they were the photos he would look at for hours on end on the days he missed the feeling that family brought him. 

“We were dumb kids," Stiles started, glancing up so Derek could snap a photo of Stiles' soft features. "My dad was the sheriff and I figured out how to hack into his radio. Nothing much ever came of it until, well, until it did. There was a call for a dead girl, just some runaway they thought got caught up with something rather--” Stiles waved it off, seemingly not wanting to speak ill of the dead. “It’s crazy that I don’t even remember  _ why _ we were out there," he noted with a huff of laughter. "That night changed everything for us, for Beacon Hills. Mostly for Scott.” For the first time since Derek had known him, Stiles sounded sad and almost regretful, like becoming a werewolf wasn’t something he would have wished on anyone. It hurt Derek to think about, but he pushed it aside. 

“Scott didn’t like what he was-- is?” Derek corrected casually. He wondered if that was how Stiles felt when he prodded into Derek's life. Stiles peered up at him as if he was surprised by Derek's question and Derek had to snap a photo. Stiles' eyelashes had just a little touch of light on them and his lips were so plump and smooth and beautiful that couldn't resist kissing him. He leaned down to press their lips together for an uncharacteristically soft and slow kiss that Stiles seemed to blush and smile into. 

When he pulled away, Stiles said, “Becoming a werewolf was how he got close to Allison, so I don’t think he regrets anything.” Stiles reached for Derek’s unoccupied hand and laced their fingers together before bringing them to his lips to press a gentle kiss against Derek’s knuckles. “He has Allison and Melody and he earned his pack; Erica, Boyd…” Stiles trailed off. 

As he looked away, Derek added, “You." Stiles glanced back up at him, a bit more surprise in his eyes before they softened to a resigned agreement. 

“Yeah, me. I guess I’m pack. I’m… human, obviously,” Stiles noted with another laugh that was a bit too void of humor for Derek's liking. “Some werewolves don’t consider human’s pack, but Scott always did. We had been friends for  _ years _ before he was bitten so it wasn’t like he was going to abandon me because he all of a sudden became hot and mysterious and popular and intimidatingly good at lacrosse.” Derek could practically smell the bitterness on him even though Stiles tried to hide it. 

Derek had never had a human in his pack when he was an alpha. He never found one strong enough, resilient enough, smart enough - one that was willing to be scented and marked by everyone close to them, willing to put their life at risk for who most humans considered monsters. He watched as Stiles seemed to breathe in their surroundings and it felt like a knife straight to his chest when he realized how Stiles ticked off every box Derek had. Stiles’ phone chimed, interrupting whatever declaration Derek was convincing himself to come up with, and they all jumped; Luke included. Stiles slid his phone from his pocket with an annoyed huff of breath as he answered the call. 

“Parrish, it’s my day off. If we have another dead ani--” Stiles sucked in a breath through his teeth before he pushed off of Derek and leaned his elbows on his knees. 

“Yeah, I’ll, uh,” he glanced at Derek, regret filling his eyes as he said, “I’ll be over soon.” He hung up the phone with a soft curse and ran his hands through his hair. Derek rested his palm on Stiles’ back and leaned forward to try and catch his eyes again. 

“What’s going on?” Derek asked. It was probably too blunt of a question considering the anxiety he could smell wafting from Stiles since the moment Parrish started speaking, but Derek had to know what he could do to ease Stiles' nerves. Instead of answering, Stiles stood up hastily and Derek followed, Luke watching them with his ears at attention as if he could sense Stiles’ emotions, too. 

“They, uh, found a-- I have to-- I have--” Stiles was stuttering uncharacteristically and his breath started to heave out of him faster than Derek was comfortable with. He took a hesitant step toward Stiles who held up his palm to cease Derek's movements before taking a deep, balancing breath. Derek felt him relax as if he had pushed his emotions back, and all of sudden it was Sheriff Stilinski in front of him. 

“You have to go?” Derek asked softly as he rested his hand on Stiles’ arm. Stiles nodded and Derek saw the regret cast on his features. Luke walked over to sniff at Stiles' hand as if asking if he was okay and Stiles rested his fingers to Luke’s head gently. Luke had that way about him and Derek was always grateful for it, especially when Stiles smiled down at him. 

“I know it’s my day off and I’m not sure if you had anything else planned besides wooing me with this beautiful field and the picture-perfect fucking pond,” Stiles said almost angrily before he took a breath and locked eyes with Derek once again, “but I-- You let me stay the night.” 

It wasn’t a question, but Derek answered it anyway. “I did.” Stiles nodded consideringly and took a step closer, moving his hand from Luke's head to rest gently on Derek's cheek. Derek wanted nothing more than to kiss him again, but if he had learned anything during his time as alpha, it was how to read those closest to him. He had recognized Stiles’ uncharacteristic hesitation and had known that it wasn’t the time. Instead, he bowed his head to brush his nose against Stiles’ before pressing a faint kiss to his cheek. Stiles visibly relaxed and leaned a little more in Derek's direction. 

“Does that mean you’re gonna let me court you now?” Derek had known that if he didn’t roll his eyes, Stiles would sense something was wrong, so he did so  _ very _ dramatically. Stiles stroked a finger across Derek's cheek before gesturing toward the path that led back to Derek’s home as if asking Derek to lead the way. More reluctantly than he had expected, Derek guided him back to the house and out the front door. With one last kiss, more chaste than Derek had found himself wanting, Stiles drove away. When Luke whined at the loss, Derek had known exactly how he felt. 

Parrish didn’t explain much to Stiles on the phone, which was probably good considering what he did hear had his stomach curling. They had found a body - a human one - that Stiles figured he would recognize the minute he entered the crime scene. He was the sheriff after all and had known a majority of the people who lived in his little town. For a brief selfish moment, Stiles had hoped it would be a drifter; someone who was passing through, stopping by the market to stock up on snacks and energy drinks to keep them awake as they wandered to their next destination. He should have known he would never be that lucky. 

The crowd lined up against the caution tape was even less of a surprise as everyone in Beacon Hills was more nosy than they needed to be and just had to be a part of all of the latest hot gossip. Stiles wished that  _ murder _ wasn't apparently the hottest gossip around. Stiles rolled his eyes as he stepped out of his car, very glad he made the decision to stop and grab his uniform before he arrived. Once the crowd had spotted him, they let him through easily before he ducked under the caution tape and took a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever -  _ whoever _ \- was waiting for him. 

“Sheriff, thank you for coming so fast,” Jordan said, his voice full of professionalism. Stiles was about to question his tone when he caught sight of the local camera crew closer to the crime scene than they should have been. Stiles nodded at him in understanding before waving a hand to gather Erica's attention. When he had it, he gestured toward the camera crew and she responded with a wide smile, fangs kept neatly tucked away unless she absolutely needed them as made her way over. 

“What happened, Parrish?” Stiles asked. Jordan inhaled sharply before pushing a small bit of brush aside. Stiles gulped audibly as the body came into view and one of his greatest fears came true. Stiles recognized her immediately as the bubbly cashier who always seemed to have a smile on her face.  _ Morgan _ , he remembered fondly. She always made sure that she had Stiles’ choice of energy drink in the little fridge at the register and refused to call him anything but Sheriff Stiles, even when he said ‘just Stiles is fine’. 

“Is it--?” Jordan was nodding before Stiles could even finish his sentence. He cursed to himself as he remembered the ash in the dashboard he hadn't given to Erica, too busy with his own changing life to remember such a simple task. “Tell me what I need to know,” Stiles ordered, his voice firm to try and hide the shakiness. Jordan reached out a hand to grab one of the forensic photographers and gestured to the camera around his neck. 

“Morgan Fletcher, age 25; a cashier at the Market. She was last seen leaving from her shift at 9pm.” A vivid image of Morgan waving to her coworkers as she walked out the door with a giant smile on her face coursed through Stiles' mind and he shook his head to get rid of it. “The owner found her this morning when he was taking out the trash.” Jordan seemed to take his own moment, biting down on his lip and clearing his throat. 

“What are you thinking, Jordan?” At the use of his first name, Jordan seemed to relax, but only slightly. 

“It’s almost identical, Stiles,” Jordan said as he let out a long breath. “She’s got claw marks across her throat, a deep wound on her side that matches fangs. Erica can’t smell another wolf, though.” Stiles nodded as he pulled on gloves that were offered to him so he could take a closer look. Once he was given the okay, he lifted her shoulder as delicately as he could and saw the dark ash underneath it. 

“Has this been sent out?” Jordan nodded quickly and gestured toward Erica. 

“It’s with Boyd now.” He seemed to hesitate as he peered down at Stiles. Stiles sighed and stood up, pulling off the gloves on his hands and raising his eyebrows at Jordan. “He’ll need another fresh sample to compare it to. He said he hasn’t gotten the full sample from the deer…” Stiles clenched his teeth and motioned his head toward the jeep. 

“He will. I’ll bring it to him myself,” Stiles promised. “I don’t see any signs of a struggle,” Stiles noted. He wasn’t about to focus on his stupid mistake, not when a girl was dead and he may have been able to prevent it. “What is this, Parrish? Where’s your head at?” Stiles always took Jordan’s thoughts into consideration as he wasn’t the head of the SPF for nothing. He knew what to look for, what made a crime supernatural, and how Stiles could help prevent someone  _ else  _ from being next on the list. Jordan seemed to mull it over and Stiles could practically see the wheels turning in his head. 

“It’s… strange. The claws and bite marks indicate werewolf, but the wounds are too neat. A rogue would have torn this girl to bits and she would have fought viciously. There’s no defensive wounds and no other injuries besides the neck and abdomen that we can tell, but the M.E. will have more information for us once the scene has been cleared and we can move her.” Jordan’s eyes surveyed the body like he was trying to put the pieces of an incomplete puzzle together. “The ash? I bet it has got the same chemicals as the powder found on the deer. It’s too similar to be a coincidence, but even if they're connected, none of it makes sense,” he finished on a barely contained shout, running his hands through his hair exasperatedly. 

“I want the autopsy results immediately. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were drugs in her system." At Jordan's offended look, Stiles clarified, "That would explain the lack of defensive wounds and the cleanliness of the injuries. You can't fight if you're incapacitated.” Stiles was thinking out loud, something he did often when trying to crack a case, but Jordan nodded along with every word. “Is it possible that this  _ isn’t  _ a werewolf? That whoever - whatever - is doing this is trying to throw us off track?” Stiles asked. That would mean that whoever was doing this was well aware that Beacon Hills had supernatural creatures on their payroll and Stiles wasn't quite sure how he had felt about that.

Jordan shrugged his shoulders and sighed, “Your guess is honestly better than mine, Sheriff.” Stiles breathed with him and motioned for one of the other detectives to cover Morgan. Stiles couldn’t keep looking at her, knowing that it very well may be his fault that she was dead. 

“I’ll have my phone on me 24/7, Parrish. The minute any of these dots connect, I want a call. If I don't answer, call again.” His voice was stern, more professional than even he had ever heard it, and Stiles noted that he sounded like his father. He didn’t really mind that, but a surge of self-doubt rushed through him as he thought that if his dad was still the sheriff, then maybe Morgan would still be alive. He shook the idea from his head and nodded in finality to Parrish before he walked to his car without another word. He ignored the crowd that wanted answers as he drove away, only making it far enough so that he was out of sight from the prying eyes of his town and the rest of his department before all of the information he had sunk into him. He pulled over on the side of the road, pulling into a wooded cove away from the people whose lives hadn’t been turned around by the scene at the Market. 

He reached for the small baggy in his glove compartment, shaking it in fingers before gripping it tightly in his fist. He slammed his other hand on the steering wheel, all of the anger and sorrow within him rushing through his veins as he shouted into the silence. He felt the guilt burning through him as hot tears streaked his cheeks and when he opened his palm, the bag was empty. The ash that could have saved Morgan's life was spread across his palm and upon closer inspection, the baggie was still entirely intact. Stiles was too stunned and wracked with emotion to do anything besides sprinkle the ash back into the baggie, letting the leftovers spill into one of the empty coffee cups littering his cupholders. He rested his head on the wheel to compose himself, giving himself a few short moments to breathe and push aside his emotions just as he had been taught, before he drove back to the station. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all are still enjoying this story. I appreciate the kudos and comments I get every week. Y'all are the real MVP's here. 
> 
> If you're not already following, I made a [Tumblr](https://sparkandwolf.tumblr.com) specifically for my Sterek obsession so feel free to follow it for updates and snippets and other Sterek content. I am always accepting prompts and questions, so please give me a shout!
> 
> Also, feel free to follow my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/thatnerdemilyj) and let me know what you think. 
> 
> Please, please, please let me know what you think of this in the comments and leave kudos if you enjoyed it! See you next week!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it's Sunday already! 
> 
> Thank you to my amazing beta, [Morgan](https://skylar102.tumblr.com/), for encouraging me through this chapter. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy! <3

Derek loved his solitude. He had bought the house in the middle of the woods, away from neighbors and solicitors and, well, everyone, because he had wanted to be alone. It had only taken three visits from initially unwanted guests for him to realize just how lonely he was, though. He didn’t want to admit to himself how much he missed Stiles. The radio silence of the last few days was something Derek had used to thrive off of, but when he woke up in the morning alone again, all he had wanted to do was pull the covers that still smelled faintly of Stiles up over his face and try to forget how long it had been since he had seen the man. Any time his front camera would chime, Derek felt his heart race as he hoped with everything in him that he would see the cruiser rolling up his driveway. And every time it wasn’t Stiles, Derek kicked himself. 

His fingers itched to pull out his phone and dial the station because Derek had - once again - forgotten to ask Stiles for his phone number. He wanted to pack Luke up in the car and drive to the Market in hopes of running into him so he could say it was an accident. He even thought about going to the station again, risking the hungry eyes of the beta who manned the front or catching Stiles in another intimate position with his friend. The thought alone made his eyes flash dangerously and as if sensing his unrest, Luke placed a paw on his knee. 

“I know, I’m calm,” Derek reassured. He rested his hand on Luke’s head and scratched a few times between his ears when he heard the chime of his security system. He took a deep breath to push down all of the hope that continued to simmer inside of him and reminded himself that it wasn’t likely it was Stiles. He checked anyway as it wasn't as if he was expecting anyone else and his eyebrows furrowed when an unfamiliar truck drove through the trees. The door flew open as it parked and Derek saw Scott’s head peek out, his arm resting on the top of the frame of the truck. Derek rolled his eyes at first, but he missed Stiles too much to not at least try to get his number from Scott. 

Derek walked to the door, calming Luke with a pat on his head and a quick “łatwo” before making his way outside. Scott waved cheerfully and jumped down from the truck before slamming the door. He held his arms out like he was greeting an old friend and Derek scowled. He wasn’t sure he would ever understand the friendliness of Beacon Hills. 

“Dude, this house looks even more beautiful than I remember!” Scott shouted as he walked to the steps. He ran his hands over the railing like he was caressing a lover and seemed to inspect the painted wood with a thoughtful eye. When he stepped onto the porch, he bypassed Derek to inspect the integrity of the floor, jumping up and down before kneeling and inspecting the rusted over nails Derek hadn't replaced yet. 

“Thank you?” Derek said, although it came out like a question. He had never seen someone so enthralled over rotted wood and flaking paint, but he figured it came with Scott’s career path. Scott grunted in response and moved to the edge of the porch where the railing was missing. Derek had meant to fix that, too. He was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to impress Scott but didn't have time to think about that as Scott leaned over the railing. Derek hoped it wouldn't break against his weight. Scott peered around to the back of the house and scraped off the moss covering the siding with his fingernail before knocking on the wood. 

“Oh, yeah. I can definitely work with this,” Scott practically sang as he turned back toward Derek. He must have sensed Derek’s confusion as he reached a friendly hand out toward him. “You do remember me, right? Scott? Stiles’ best friend? The guy who really wanted to renovate your glorious home?” Scott said as he pushed his hand even closer as if forcing Derek to take it. Derek complied but not without a confused tilt of his head. 

“I wasn’t really looking for anyone to… renovate?” Derek commented as he let go of Scott’s hand. The pleading look on Scott’s face was one that even Derek had a hard time saying no to and he suddenly understood how he and Stiles seemed to get away with everything when they were kids. He shook his head and sighed heavily, glancing at the door frame that he knew needed a little work. “I guess we could talk about it?” Derek reluctantly agreed, closing his eyes the instant Scott grinned at him. He felt immediate regret but he figured that if Scott was important to Stiles, he had to do what he could to gain Scott's respect. One thing he knew about being part of a pack was that if the alpha didn’t like someone, no one could. 

“I have so many ideas, man. Can I come in?” Derek thought that it was nice of him to ask considering he was rocking back and forth on his feet as if ready to sprint inside anyway. Derek suppressed a smile as he reminded himself that Scott was Melissa’s son and she had just made herself at home the first time she came out. “I’d like to look around, maybe toss some ideas at you,” Scott said. Even though Derek hadn't answered his question, Scott was already moving toward the door, only stopping when he saw Luke. Luke wasn’t growling, but his stance was a warning and Scott took it as such. 

“Łatwo,” Derek warned, pressing a hand to the top of Luke’s head. Scott’s eyes glowed and the alpha-colored brightness had Derek’s heart seizing in his chest. Luke stayed close to him as if sensing his anxiety, but relaxed enough for Scott to hesitantly reach toward his nose. Luke sniffed at his hand and his tail wagged happily which Scott seemed to take as a go-ahead as he pushed past Derek. He seemed to twirl around the house, taking in every inch of viewable space as if he had just entered heaven. 

“This open living space is straight out of a dream. Do you even know how lucky you are?” Scott asked as he opened his arms again like he wanted to scoop the entire house in his arms and savor it. Derek raised an eyebrow at him. He liked the house, don’t get him wrong, but it was just a  _ house _ . He had barely put anything on the walls except for a few of his favorite photographs, the wooden floor was run down with scuff marks, and the kitchen needed a major update sans the new appliances Derek had purchased when he moved in. He had known it was a pretty house - the real estate agent who sold him on it described the home as classic and antique - but Scott looked at it like it was priceless. Derek wished he could see what Scott did. 

“Why do you want to change it so badly then?” Derek asked, his voice harsher than he had intended. He hadn't known why he felt the need to defend the house, but the feeling shot through him unexpectedly. It was like he could suddenly see what it could be, if he let himself stay. He shook the thought aside when he noticed Scott gaping at him. 

“I don’t want to  _ change  _ it, Derek, I want to  _ enhance  _ it,” he said as if it was obvious. Derek stared at him, waiting for him to expand on his ideas. Scott sighed happily and pointed to the stairs. “The stairs are the focal point to the entire first floor. They’re the first thing you see when you come in the front and the back doors and they have such a beautiful shape to them.” Derek nodded along as Scott slid his hand along the railing before inspecting at his fingers like he was checking for dust. 

“I want to keep the first floor open concept,” Derek stated. Both of them were equally surprised by his input, Derek thought by the look on Scott’s face. It was masked quickly by a wide smile as he nodded furiously. 

“I’d put in a new island in the kitchen cause this one is pretty outdated. I’d make it more of a bar to eliminate the need for a full dining table.” Derek could practically see the wheels turning in Scott’s head as he spun around, making mental notes of everything he had planned to do. His eyes settled at the back door and he peeked his head out to scan over the porch. “This,” he stated, crossing his arms over his chest, “I want to change. I’d keep the basic shape, but imagine the railing stopping about here.” Scott placed his hand over a section of the broken railing and gestured wildly at the rest like he was magicking it away. “You’d have this side of the porch fully open for Luke to run down as he pleases and I could create some really cool looking stairs that blend in with the nature of your entire back yard.” Scott was practically jumping in his stance now. 

“I think…” Derek trailed off, following Scott's gaze to try and picture the clear vision that Scott seemed to have. He had known it would look incredible and he had a fleeting image of Luke bounding into the forest as he sat at the patio table with Stiles.  _ Without Stiles _ . He rerouted that unwanted idea by thinking it  _ would _ be a selling point if he decided to put the house on the market. He nodded consideringly and glanced over at Scott whose eyes were pleading for an answer. Derek sighed heavily before speaking again. “I think we should discuss the price. I have beer,” Derek offered. The words sounded foreign on his tongue as he wasn’t used to inviting people to stay. Derek noted to himself that he had been doing quite a lot of that lately. Scott didn’t seem to care, though, as he nodded and slid open the back door again. He stayed out on the balcony, a silent acceptance of Derek's offer, and his eyes scanned the siding as Derek took a step inside. 

“You still have that porter you bought for Stiles?” At the mere mention of the name, Derek blushed and it would have been embarrassingly noticeable if Scott wasn’t so interested in the rotting wood that made up the outside of the house. Derek walked to the fridge and took out two beers before making his way back outside. He tossed one to Scott and he caught it with barely a blink. There was something about being around another werewolf with the same intensity of reflexes that had him missing the pack mentality. He had never  _ needed  _ a pack, but the feeling was still there, edging closer and closer each day he spent in Beacon Hills. 

“Thanks for the tip,” Derek said as he sat at the table, popping open the tab of his beer. Scott smiled at him as he opened his own. 

“I’m guessing he enjoyed it?” Scott said, his smile growing into a knowing smirk. Derek rolled his eyes and took a long sip as Luke laid down under the table with a sigh. Scott laughed at the human-like noise and leaned down to run a hand through Luke’s fur. “Stiles loves this dog and I can see why,” Scott drawled. At Derek’s questioning glance, he laughed again. “He’s practically your twin.” Derek huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“I’m not convinced Stiles really likes me that much,” Derek muttered. The words sounded petty on his lips, but he couldn’t stop the bitter tone that laced them. Stiles apparently had time to talk to Scott about his dog, but didn’t have time to reach out to Derek? Derek thought that it might have been weighing on him more than he wanted it to. 

Scott sighed heavily and rested his beer on the table before leaning to try and catch Derek's eye. “You heard about Morgan?” Scott asked. Derek recalled the girl who worked with Isaac; the one who was all smiles and cheeriness whenever Derek checked out and would always compliment Derek on his assortment of spices. He wasn’t sure why Scott would be bringing her up, though. “She was murdered a few days ago. They found her behind the Market all clawed up like a werewolf attack,” Scott explained. Derek inhaled sharply at the new information. Stiles had left so abruptly with barely an explanation and Derek kicked himself for not realizing that it must have been something serious. A brief flash of Morgan’s smiling flash appeared followed quickly by the memory of Cora’s contagious giggle and Derek hadn't realized how tightly he was gripping his thigh until Scott cleared his throat. 

“Sorry, I, uh--” Derek didn’t really have an explanation for his reaction, so he opted instead to take a calming sip from his beer. “Is Stiles…?” He trailed off again, unsure if it was right for him to ask - if he had deserved that privilege just yet. Scott shook his head and leaned back in his chair. 

“Stiles has always felt… responsible for the humans in this town. When we were kids and I was bitten, he was the only one of us who  _ was  _ human. He ran with wolves and banshees and hunters and man, did he keep up,” Scott explained as he stared at the sky. Derek smirked into the top of his beer as he took a small sip. He thought it was interesting how little Stiles had changed from how Scott had explained their childhood. He had never had problems keeping up with the weird happenings in what seemed like a town full of them and something about that had Derek's heart skipping a beat. “When he became a cop, all he wanted to do was protect humans. It’s why his dad came up with the SPF.”

“SPF?” Derek asked, tilting his head in confusion. He knew that Scott wasn’t talking about sunscreen. Scott laughed at Derek’s expression, almost spitting out the sip of beer in his mouth. 

“Supernatural Protection Force, er, animal control,” Scott explained. “Parrish heads it as a hellhound and he’s got a kitsune and a werewolf on call for any mysterious crimes that could be supernaturally related.” Derek chuckled and shook his head when Scott sent him a wary look. 

“I’m starting to think Stiles under exaggerated what his life was -  _ is _ \- like in your pack,” Derek said as he gazed out into the forest. He tried to imagine Stiles in high school, running through the trees with a pack of wolves on his tail. A small part of him felt like he wouldn’t have let it happen if he had known Stiles. His family was always very protective of the humans in their pack even if there weren’t many. His thoughts drifted to how Stiles would have fit in with his own pack back when he was the alpha. It was a time that he didn’t necessarily want to remember with Scott sitting across from him, so he cleared the emotion from his throat and took a long sip of his beer. 

“Have you ever thought of starting a pack?” Derek was caught off guard by the question and choked on his drink when it was asked. Scott raised an eyebrow at him and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair again. Derek resisted the urge to kick out the bottom legs so that he'd stop making himself so comfortable. “Lone wolves in California are rare. There’s so many packs to choose from and so many wolves to be made,” Scott figured. There was a long pause and Derek knew it was his turn to talk - maybe make a decision - but he could barely get the words out. 

“I’m not an alpha,” Derek said gruffly. Scott tilted his head and leaned back toward Derek, the sound of the front legs of the chair hitting the deck echoing in his head. He closed his eyes and tried to control the glow of his eyes at an alpha’s gaze. 

“But you were,” Scott deducted. Derek growled low and found it hard to contain his wolf anymore. His eyes glowed, his fangs shot out, and he gripped the table with white knuckles to control his shift. One flash of Scott’s red eyes had Derek relaxing and he honestly hated the loss of control he felt. He used to be the one to put his pack in their place with just the flash of his own power and now he was weak and Scott was a not-so-gentle reminder of it. 

“I--” Scott rested a hand on his shoulder and it was anything but what Derek expected. He tried to remember that this was Scott’s territory and even though he lived there, he had to respect the local alpha. The fact Scott touched him so delicately was uncharacteristic for any alpha he had ever met. He instantly understood why Stiles was so fond of him. 

“You carry yourself like an alpha. I should know,” Scott said. Derek nodded at him and composed himself enough to place a hand on Luke’s head, who had stood up during his outburst. “I have a feeling that if I asked you how you became a beta, you wouldn’t be able to tell me, so I won’t ask. But I have to say something,” Scott said, his serious tone knocking Derek out of his own self-destructive thoughts. 

“I’m not here to be a problem. I didn’t even know there was a pack here when I bought the house,” Derek explained. Scott shook his head and finished off the rest of his beer. 

“That’s not what I was going to say,” Scott said softly. Derek furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head again. He had met alphas before that angered the minute another wolf stepped foot in their territory, let alone had their hands on a pack member, but Scott was proving himself to be different and Derek hadn't known what to think of it. “Stiles is just as much a part of my pack as any of the wolves-” Derek knew that much “-and the one thing that has always been consistent about him is how much he cares for people, supernatural or not. When he loves, it’s with his entire heart.” Derek nodded his understanding even though he wasn’t quite sure what Scott was trying to say and Scott sighed before he continued. “I don’t want to see Stiles get hurt by a wolf who thinks he doesn’t need a pack, let alone a partner.” 

“I don’t--” Scott raised an eyebrow at him, like a warning for whatever Derek was about to deny. Derek had a passing thought that the look was one Stiles was probably very familiar with. He inhaled slowly before downing the rest of his drink as he considered his response. He knew he had to tell the truth. Scott had been a werewolf for enough years to read a heartbeat and Derek realized he didn’t necessarily  _ want _ to lie to Scott. He was important to Stiles and somewhere in the last few weeks, Stiles had become essential to Derek. “I don’t want to hurt Stiles,” Derek decided, hoping it was enough of an answer for Scott. At Scott’s careful nod, Derek let out his breath and stood up. 

“Thanks for letting me look over the house. I can send you an estimate in a couple of days. Can I grab your number?” Derek’s eyes went wide, much to Scott’s surprise. Derek laughed softly to try to cover his reaction as he ran his hand along the back of his neck. 

“If I give you my number, can you give it to Stiles? He hasn’t-- I haven’t talked to him since last weekend and I’m--” Derek cut himself off, not ready to be as vulnerable as he felt at that moment. 

“I’ll tell him you want to hear from him,” Scott agreed as he handed Derek his phone. Derek inputted the numbers that he had barely memorized as Scott was the first person he had given his phone number to since he moved in. It felt… odd, but not entirely unwanted. 

“Thank you,” Derek said genuinely as Scott walked to his truck. Luke pressed up against his leg, whining softly as Scott opened his car door. Derek glanced at his watch and sighed when he saw the time. Scott had been there for almost two hours, but it hadn't felt nearly that long. 

“Think about what I said, okay?” Scott shouted before he shut his door, not giving Derek time to answer. He figured Scott wasn’t really asking and waved him off before walking inside to feed Luke. They went through their usual routine and even though it was an hour later than usual, Derek found himself without a care. Derek sat at his desk and plugged in his camera, smiling when the photos of Stiles popped up on his screen. He spent the rest of the night staring at Stiles and it was quite possibly the best view he’d had in years. 

“Go home, Stilinski.” Stiles jolted at the sound of Erica’s voice and the slam of her fist against the door. He quickly grabbed at his holster in response, knocking over the nearly spent coffee cup and a jar of pencils he hadn’t realized were that close to him. He swore to himself and shot out of his desk chair to avoid the dripping coffee before shooting a glare at his deputy. 

“Erica, what the hell?” Stiles scolded as he reached for a discarded shirt he probably should have brought home to launder a few days ago. Erica stared at it and with a roll of her eyes, stalked over to Stiles and clutched onto his arm. “Deputy Rey--” He felt the claws in his arm and tugged it away, holding it to his chest with an offended look on his face. 

“Don’t ‘ _ deputy _ ’ me, Stiles. You’ve been here for four days and I’ve caught you sleeping at your desk for three of them.” Stiles wanted to argue, but he had known she was right. He spent his time reading the report Boyd had written about the ash on Morgan’s body and was waiting for the autopsy to be completed none too patiently. He couldn’t stop the flashing image in his brain of Morgan under the brush and flinched, the move not going unnoticed by Erica. “Go  _ home _ , Stiles.” Erica’s voice was softer, but Stiles heard the finality in it. He nodded reluctantly and tossed his t-shirt on the almost dried up coffee before making his way out the front door. 

“You look like shit, kid.” Stiles had been staring at his feet to remind himself how to walk, but glanced up at words, a tired smile growing on his face. Not even the chill of the night air or the sight of his father was enough to rouse him. 

“Hey, dad,” Stiles muttered. He was surprised at how fatigued his voice sounded and briefly thought about grabbing another coffee for the drive home. “What are you doing here?” He asked. It wasn’t like his dad to visit the station after the sun went down. He usually stopped by with coffee in the morning or at lunchtime with a sandwich, understanding his son well enough to know he probably didn’t pack one for himself. A small feeling of much-needed relief passed through Stiles when he saw his father’s face, though. 

“Can’t a guy check in on the sheriff once in a while?” Stiles raised an eyebrow at him before pulling John into a tight hug. He had spent so much time in the last few days stewing in his own pity that he had forgotten to reach out to his dad who he realized would probably understand what he was going through better than anyone else could. He had also known that John wouldn’t have come by without a little push and made a mental note to buy Erica some more lollipops in the near future. “Scott talked to Melissa and since we’re married, there are no secrets,” John explained even further as he held Stiles just as tightly. He wasn't sure how he had gotten so lucky to be in a pack that truly cared for one another, but he hadn't thought to question it.

“Ahh, yes, the laws of marriage,” Stiles tried to joke, but the words sounded dull to his ears. His exhaustion seemed to hit him the minute the cold night air washed against his face and he silently cursed himself for letting himself get so overworked. John seemed to have the same opinion as he placed a hand on Stiles’ shoulder.

“You spent a lot of years taking care of this sheriff, I figured it was my time to take care of you,” John said softly as he squeezed Stiles' hand, pulling him over to his jeep. “We’ll talk on the drive,” he decided as he seized the keys from Stiles’ hand and unlocked the car. Stiles was too tired to ask any questions as he pulled himself into the passenger’s seat, leaning his head back against the rest to finally close his eyes. Instant regret flooded him as Morgan’s body, clawed and bitten, surged through his mind. He opened them with a barely audible gasp that John must have heard judging by the hand he rested a hand on Stiles’ knee. “Kid, what’s going on?” 

“It’s nothing…” Stiles realized he wasn’t going to get away with the obvious lie when speaking with his father and sighed heavily, resting his head in his hands and scrubbing at his tired eyes. “I’ve seen dead bodies before. I’ve been the one to find them, the one to clean them up, the one who  _ caused  _ them by association sometimes.” Stiles shook his head and turned toward John. “Why can’t I stop seeing her?” He asked, the crack in his voice giving away the emotion he had tried so hard to bottle up the last few days. John squeezed his knee and patted it a few times, a gesture that Stiles appreciated more than he could say. John hadn’t always been the most affectionate growing up, but even the small expression of comfort had him relaxing. 

“None of those deaths have been your responsibility. Not like Morgan,” John said. Stiles knew he hadn't meant it to be cruel, but the words shot through him like a bullet and the unexpected pain had tears bubbling in his eyes. 

“It’s not my fa--” 

“It’s  _ not  _ your fault. It  _ isn’t _ ,” John interrupted before Stiles could get the sentence out. Stiles wiped at his eyes before sending John a pleading glance, hoping he would explain further and stop whatever Stiles was undergoing. “You’re sheriff now, Stiles. You have a responsibility to every person in this town and no matter what happens to them, you’re going to feel guilty about it. Every single time someone was in the wrong place at the wrong time or you or one of your friends found themselves in danger,  _ I  _ was responsible. It comes with the job.” Stiles nodded as he tried to understand, but there was a struggle inside of him he had never felt before. He glanced down at the coffee cup holding the discarded ash he had tried to push from his mind. Boyd’s report didn’t have enough information in it to help with the investigation and that was the only thing keeping him from placing the full blame of Morgan's demise on himself for Morgan’s demise. 

“Why hasn’t this happened before? I’ve never felt guilt like this before,” Stiles said, bouncing his knee up and down to a beat only he could hear. It was something he hadn’t done since he was a teenager that always seemed to provide him the comfort he had never realized he needed, so he didn’t stop himself. 

“It comes with the job,” John repeated, nodding his head. Stiles sighed heavily and tilted his head back against the rest again. “You have to find your way out of the guilt, kid. It'll eat you up inside if you don’t,” John advised sternly, glancing over at Stiles who had his lip pulled into his mouth. Stiles barely noticed he was chewing on it until John squeezed at his knee again. “For some reason, Beacon Hills has been quiet since you took over the position and I’ve been grateful, believe me. I secretly hoped I would never have to have this conversation with you,” John muttered sadly. Stiles peered over at him, barely mustering the strength to open his eyes. 

“How did you find your way out of it?” Stiles asked softly, linking his hands together in front of him to try and stop the irritating amount of fidgeting. John smiled as he put the car in park. Stiles hadn't noticed that they had reached his house as he was too busy in his own head to pay attention to his surroundings.  _ What a cop I am _ , Stiles thought bitterly, biting a bit more urgently at the skin on his lip. John rested a hand on the back of Stiles’ head and stroked his thumb over the long hair. Stiles vaguely remembered the feeling of support that had brought him in high school when his hair was practically nonexistent and he leaned into the familiar touch. 

“I had you,” John said simply. Stiles raised an eyebrow at him. He had known his dad loved him, but he was sure that nothing about Stiles was reassuring to him during high school. John laughed and patted the back of Stiles’ head as he shook his own. “You were a little shit, but you made it so that any guilt I ever felt vanished. It had to disappear in order for me to be there for my son.” Stiles smiled over at his dad, leaning into him for a much-needed embrace. While the angle was awkward, it did the trick, and Stiles felt instantly better. 

“I love you, dad,” Stiles said as he stepped out of his jeep, trying his hardest not to fall over in exhaustion. John nodded at him with a soft smile on his lips. 

“Love you, too, son,” John responded. Stiles patted the side of the jeep as John pulled away and reached for the house keys in his pocket before unlocking the door. His phone chimed as he put his keys back in his pocket and he glanced up at the clock in the hallway. He wasn’t sure who would be texting him so late but when he saw Scott’s name appear, he couldn't help but smile. His expression morphed into that of confusion when all he saw was an unfamiliar phone number. Scott was still typing, so Stiles dragged himself up the stairs and pushed himself face-first on his mattress, sighing at the comfort of his warm bed. He lazily took off his uniform and tossed it aside haphazardly, letting himself skip his normal bedtime routine in favor of keeping the softness of his pillow under his head. 

_ Give Derek a call. Hope you’re doing okay, buddy. I’m here if you need me. _

Stiles smiled to himself at the advice and felt his heart skip in his chest at the mention of Derek. He had known it wasn’t fair of him to not reach out, but he was so drained and it was so late, he briefly wondered if Derek would even be awake at that hour. He couldn't resist saving the number before he rested the phone on his bedside table. He tried to fall asleep, hoping the fatigue of the last few days would catch up to him, but he found himself tossing and turning as he thought about Derek again. He had to let Derek know his mind hadn't forgotten about the surly werewolf, so he grabbed for his phone and sent a quick text, his eyes struggling to stay open with every passing second.

_ My bed’s not nearly as comfy as yours. Can I try it out again sometime? _

It wasn’t his best work, but considering the minimal amount of sleep he had gotten in the last few days, he let himself get away with it. The last thing he saw before sleep overtook him was Derek’s name flash on his screen. 

_ How about tomorrow night?  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heavy Sterek next chapter, promise!! But, these interactions are just as important. <3 
> 
> If you're not already following, I made a [Tumblr](https://sparkandwolf.tumblr.com) specifically for my Sterek obsession so feel free to follow it for updates and snippets and other Sterek content. I am always accepting prompts and questions, so please give me a shout!
> 
> Also, feel free to follow my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/thatnerdemilyj) and let me know what you think. 
> 
> Please, please, please let me know what you think of this in the comments and leave kudos if you enjoyed it! See you next week!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is soft™ according to my wonderful beta, [Morgan](https://skylar102.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! ☺️

It felt crazy to Derek that even one text message from Stiles could change his mood so quickly. Derek fell asleep with a smile on his face and his phone on his chest, only waking when his phone had rung and the sun had already risen. For what might have been the first time in his life, Derek was excited to hear the shrill sound of his ringtone as he frantically patted the covers to find his phone. When he saw Stiles’ name, another smile found its way to his face as he leaned his head back onto the pillow. He waited for a few more rings before taking a deep breath to try to contain the nerves he suddenly felt. 

“Hi,” Derek said softly. He rolled his eyes at himself at the basic greeting, but in his defense, he hadn’t answered the phone for someone who wasn’t a professional in a very long time. The chime of Stiles’ laugh was like music to his ears and he had to shake his head to try and contain the warmth that flooded through him. 

“Derek.” Stiles seemed to breathe the words out, a simple whisper that had Derek’s heart beating a little faster. He pressed his hand over the pulsing beat as if that would do anything to slow it. “I’m-- What are you doing today?” Stiles asked. Derek furrowed his eyebrows as he recalled the text message from the night prior. 

“I thought we had… bed plans?” Derek responded, putting the phone on speaker so he could look at the message he sent before he fell asleep to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. Stiles chuckled into the phone and Derek heard rustling like he was moving around in his own bed. 

“Bed plans? Your seduction methods are strange, but I can’t say they’re not working,” Stiles teased. Derek rolled his eyes as he turned in his bed, meeting Luke’s piercing gaze and ears that stood straight up as if trying to listen to their conversation. “Is that okay? I know I haven’t really…” Stiles trailed off, but Derek shook his head. With every word Stiles spoke, Luke’s ears twitched and his head tilted. If Derek hadn’t known any better, he would have thought that Luke had missed the sound of Stiles’ voice almost as much as Derek did. 

“It’s okay,” Derek said quickly, holding the phone up to his ear just in time to hear Stiles’ soft sigh on the other end. “You’ve… had a lot going on.” Derek understood why Stiles hadn’t reached out to him, especially after his talk with Scott which he would never admit out loud. Scott had obviously kept his promise to give Stiles his phone number and that was… unexpected. Derek hadn’t yet met an alpha that was willing to let Derek into their territory without becoming part of their pack and since Derek had never been looking for that, he had always moved on quickly. He couldn’t stop himself from wondering why this place and why Scott was so different. 

“I can’t wait to see you,” Stiles whispered so softly, the sound sent slow chills down Derek’s spine. Derek bit down on his lip, an uncharacteristic move for him, and he shook his head at the ridiculous immaturity of it. 

“I have hamburgers. Scott and I drank the last two of your beers, though, so if you want to drink, you’ll have to supply yourself,” Derek noted as he turned onto his back. He held the phone close to his ear and smiled when he heard another sigh from Stiles, this time relieved. 

“I’ll come by around four? I took the day off so Erica’s manning the station for the day,” Stiles said. Derek nodded in response and kept his eyes closed, the small smile that seemed ever-present on his lips not disappearing even in Stiles’ silence. “Unless--” Stiles started after a few long seconds. Derek realized that Stiles was not in bed beside him and therefore unable to see his nod and laughed into the phone. 

“Yeah, four works great. I’ll, uh, see you then?” Derek said. It came out like a question and he could hear the smirk in Stiles’ tone. 

“Four o’clock,” Stiles agreed. 

Derek huffed at the clear amusement in Stiles’ tone and found himself struggling to end the call. He stared down at the time and realized that less than ten minutes had gone by since Stiles had called which couldn’t have been possible. He sat up in surprise when Luke let out a soft bark, placing a hand on the dog’s head to try and calm him. Derek raised his eyebrows at the dog, but Luke didn’t have the shame to look away. Instead, he glanced at the phone and tilted his head as if asking a question. 

“Is that Luke?” Stiles’ asked eagerly. Derek stifled the unreasonable jealousy that simmered because of the excitement in Stiles’ tone and sighed heavily, which was apparently enough of an answer for Stiles to screech, “Put me on speaker! I wanna say hi!” Derek could practically hear Stiles bouncing around like a toddler and couldn’t help but feel a bit fond of the reaction. He put the phone on speaker as Luke sniffed the microphone and lapped at his lips. 

“Alright,” Derek drawled out, rolling his eyes as Luke pushed his nose harder against the phone. When Stiles started to speak, his head tilted back and forth as if he was following along with every word. 

“Luke! Are you being a good boy for your daddy?” Stiles questioned and Derek scoffed through the grin that formed on his face. “I know your owner has probably been brooding without having my sunny disposition to brighten him up.” Derek cleared his throat like Stiles must have forgotten that Derek was listening, but Stiles just laughed and whispered into the phone. “I’ll bring you a nice big bone tonight that you can chew while your dad and I do a different  _ type _ of boning.” Derek let out a loud laugh, covering his mouth with his hand as Luke looked quizzically up at him. 

“You’re a menace, Sheriff,” Derek chided as he ran his hands over his face. He took the phone off speaker which seemed to kickstart Luke into their normal morning routine as he bounded to the door and sat expectantly. “I’ll see you later?” Derek asked again as he finally got out of bed. He knew he had no reason to doubt Stiles, but he couldn’t ignore the worry that Stiles would disappear again. 

He pushed the thought aside - something he was very used to doing - as Stiles responded, “With bells on.” Derek took a happy breath when Stiles hung up the phone, silently grateful for Stiles taking initiative in ending the call. He wasn’t quite sure if he would have been able to. He glanced at the clock and sighed, trying not to count down the hours until he could see Stiles again. 

He went through his normal routine with Luke; letting him out for a run, feeding him, editing a few pictures while he watered the grass outside. It felt… boring. The tasks he had ingrained into his routine over the last few months - years even if he was honest with himself - seemed mundane as he watched the clock keep ticking away. His ears were straining to listen for a car driving up the driveway and every time his cell phone would ding, he would check it immediately, trying to push aside the disappointment of just another email. 

He had spent a few hours updating his website with photos he had taken in the clearing and told himself repeatedly it wasn’t just so he could see Stiles’ smile. It was obviously because sunrises were very popular among his gallery contacts and more heavily pocketed clients. He edited a few pictures of flowers for the florists on his payroll and browsed through the photos he had taken of Luke that vet clinics and animal shelters loved. The minute his website was updated, he had known his paycheck would cover him for the next few weeks. He wasn’t sure how he had gotten so lucky with his type of photography, but he decided long ago not to question it too much. It allowed him to live the life that he had needed to for so long and he was grateful for it. 

Before he had time to lean back in his chair and relax from a job well done, he heard an unfamiliar rumble of a car rolling up his driveway. He listened more intently and didn’t recognize the car as Stiles’ or Scott’s and he growled low in his throat when Luke ran to his side, his own ears pointed straight up. He heard the brakes squeak and grimaced at the frequency before pulling open the door, instantly relaxed when he saw the unmistakable curly black hair through the windshield. 

“Derek!” Melissa shouted as she stepped out of the car. She beckoned him over with a wave of her hand and Derek complied easily, instinctively rubbing a nervous hand over his shoulder. “I brought a few things over for Scott, I hope that’s okay,” Melissa said, but Derek knew she didn’t really mean it as he figured she would have come over even if he  _ had _ minded. He realized suddenly that  _ he _ didn’t mind and the thought alone had him cringing as she shoved a few tarps into his hands. 

“What are these?” Derek asked. They smelled faintly of paint and chemicals and he scrunched his nose at the aroma. She rolled her eyes as she pulled a very familiar looking dish out of her back seat. Derek breathed in deeply, his mouth watering when the scent of pie filled his nostrils. He held back the grin that he wanted to give her, letting his eyebrows furrow instead. “Did you know Stiles was coming over?” Derek asked. Melissa raised her own eyebrows at him and rested a hand on her hip. 

“I didn’t, but that’s very interesting. We should talk more about it over some of this delicious pie,” Melissa said with a bright smile as she pushed past him and walked up the stairs like she owned the place. Derek shook his head and let a small smile form on his lips as he followed her. 

“You must have known he was coming over,” Derek said again, shutting the door behind them with his foot before walking to the back screen. He opened it as best he could and dropped the tarps and other supplies onto the porch. Melissa followed him out after a quick trip through the kitchen and placed the pie on the table, uncovering it and taking a long sniff. 

“Why is that?” Melissa asked. It felt like a test to Derek. Like whatever he said next would define something in him. He wasn’t so sure he liked that Melissa thought she could read him so well. She tilted her head at him, raising her eyebrows again as if she wouldn’t carry on without an answer. Derek crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at her. 

“Because.” He knew the answer was juvenile. It was something both Cora and Laura would do to him when they were kids. They would cross their arms over their chests, push out their hips, and stare at him, the word echoing through the air like a gunshot. It never failed to piss him off and he found himself hoping, just slightly, that it would work on Melissa. 

“You think that the only reason I would bring over something for you again was if it was for Stiles, too, right?” Derek opened his mouth to argue, but he realized that she was right. He didn’t see why Melissa would spend money on ingredients and time on baking just for him. It didn’t make sense. He wasn’t exactly friendly to her during their last conversation and he certainly hadn’t asked her to come by again. He wouldn’t mention out loud that he maybe did enjoy her company more than he led on. 

“Yes,” he said simply, letting himself fall onto the chair across from Melissa as she scooped a piece onto one of the plates she had nabbed from the cupboard. She pushed it to Derek, a small smirk on her face that reminded him so much of Scott that there was no doubt in his mind that they were related. 

“When was the last time someone did something for you out of the goodness of their heart, Derek?” Melissa asked seriously as she took a bite of her own pie. Before Derek could answer, she hummed and gestured toward his slice. “Pie is baked from the goodness of  _ my _ heart so I think you better give it a taste,” Melissa urged. It wasn’t exactly an order, but Derek wasn’t going to test the tone either. He ate a large bite and smiled over at her as the cherry flavor burst through his taste buds. 

“Stiles’ favorite,” Derek noted. A giggle left Melissa’s lips as she threw her head back and pointed the fork at him accusingly. 

“Scott isn’t usually that good at reading people, but he was so right about you,” Melissa said through her laughter. Derek tilted his head as he took another bite, pointedly ignoring the huff he heard beside him from Luke who clearly wanted his own taste. Derek held up a hand at him without looking and heard Luke’s collar hit the porch, indicating he had listened and lied down. “You’re already so gone on my son!” She said the words like they were fact and Derek had to swallow slowly to ensure he didn’t choke. 

“I-- What?” Derek thought it was safest to clarify before defending. He also figured it would be impossible to defend himself when he was pretty sure Stiles was becoming the most important part of his life. It felt stupid for Derek to feel something like that so soon after meeting the man, but he couldn’t bring himself to deny it inside of him. 

“Answer my first question, Hale. When was the last time someone did something for you because they wanted to,” Melissa reworded as she leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs dramatically and once again looking as if she was at home. Derek huffed and put the plate down, the noise louder than he intended. Melissa didn’t seem taken aback, even as he glared at her. 

“I don’t know how to answer that question,” Derek said honestly. He couldn’t really think of an answer that would appease her. The only thing he could think of was Stiles. How he had made Derek dinner because he wanted to, stayed the night because he wanted to, had kissed Derek because he  _ wanted _ to. He shook his head as his own racing heartbeat reverberated through his ears. “So, you’re telling me that you came over here strictly as a… what? A favor for Scott? And brought me pie because you thought I would enjoy it?” The disbelief was evident in his tone and he was sure Melissa heard it when her face softened. She leaned forward and placed a gentle hand on Derek’s knee, her eyes filled with a pity he hadn’t seen in a long while. 

“You liked the first pie, yeah?” Melissa asked in a tone Derek could only describe as motherly. Derek nodded, staying otherwise silent. “I make my family pie all the time. They appreciate it and they tell me as much, I’m lucky that way. But sometimes, it’s nice to seek out reassurance in others.” Derek knew Melissa wasn’t talking about herself as much as she made it seem. It seemed that everyone in Stiles’ life was pushing him toward Derek, making sure that Derek would let him in. It didn’t make any sense to him. All he could think about was why Stiles  _ shouldn’t _ waste his time and energy on someone like him. 

Derek shook his head and reached for the plate, taking another large bite as he thought. He took a deep breath before speaking again. “No one has ever made me pie, so my compliments don’t mean much.” He smiled at her and she smiled back. This unspoken language they were forming felt comfortable to Derek. Like he could talk to Melissa in ways he hadn’t been able to talk to anyone else before. 

“Stiles has said otherwise,” Melissa commented with a shrug and a smirk. Derek wasn’t sure whether he wanted to ask for clarification, so he didn’t. Instead, he let Luke have a piece of Melissa’s crust and listened to her stories, reveling in the small amount of contentment it gave him. 

* * *

Stiles was glad he took the day to himself, even though he spent a majority of it counting down the minutes until he could see Derek. He had been so busy drowning himself in the case, he hadn’t given himself time to miss anyone. He hadn’t really given himself anyone  _ to _ miss in years, he thought. And then it was like Derek overtook every sense. He wanted to see Derek, to feel his warmth surround him, to smell the woods and earth that Derek always seemed bathed in. He wanted to hear Derek’s deep voice and his laughter and… 

Stiles decided that an hour wasn’t too early to arrive at Derek’s as he turned his car around and started driving in the direction of Derek’s house. He convinced himself that Derek wouldn’t be busy with anything too serious, but seeing his step-mother’s car in the driveway was quite possibly the last thing he expected. Luke bounded from the side of the house and Stiles could hear his barking over the sound of his engine. He cut it quickly and stepped out of the car, his pulse beating rapidly, his eyes on high alert. He reached for the gun at his side on instinct, cursing to himself when he realized it wasn’t there. 

Luke sat down as a deep voice from the porch commanded, “Dość.” Stiles glanced up to see Derek’s eyes searching over Stiles like he was looking for danger. Stiles pushed back the embarrassment he felt that Derek could probably hear his heart pounding or smell the scent of fear wafting off of him. Melissa’s presence calmed him and he let a smile take over his face. If there was one person in the world that he would never let know when something was wrong, it was her. 

“Give him that command that will make him come say hi,” Stiles whined, reaching his hands out to stroke Luke’s head. Luke glanced back at Derek with pleading eyes and Derek complied easily. 

“Grać.” At the word, Luke stood up and winded his way through Stiles’ legs, rubbing his head over every inch of Stiles that he could reach. Stiles smiled and knelt down to push his face into Luke’s fur. He realized why Derek must have kept him around as he felt the remaining anxiety in him dwindle. Luke licked his cheek when Stiles pulled back before the dog bounded back toward Derek who was making his way over to where Stiles had parked. 

“Hey, Sourwo--” Derek pulled him into a hug before he could finish his words. If Stiles thought that Luke relaxed him, he might have turned into a puddle when he finally had Derek in his arms. He hugged him back tightly, glancing over his shoulder where he figured Melissa was watching. The cocky smirk on her face was enough to have him blushing and reluctantly pulling away from Derek’s embrace. There was a rumble in Derek’s chest that had Stiles laughing softly and resting his hand on the scruff of Derek’s cheek. 

“Well, I guess that’s my cue to leave, isn’t it, boys?” Melissa cheered as she wandered over to them. She pulled Stiles into a tight hug and pressed a messy kiss to his cheek before wiping away the light tint of lipstick. “I convinced Derek not to eat  _ all _ of the cherry pie with me, so there’s a few slices left for after you lovebirds have dinner.” Stiles blushed deeper at the open affection and her words, swatting her hands away from his face. 

“Mom,” he whined as she stepped away and over to Derek. To both of their surprise, Derek’s evident in the way his eyebrows shot to his forehead and the way his mouth gaped open, Melissa pulled Derek into a similar hug. She pressed her lips to his cheek, just a little less messily, before leaning over to kiss the top of Luke’s head. 

“Derek, Erica told me that Stiles has the entire weekend off. Don’t let him work himself to death, okay?” The words had a teasing tone to them, but Stiles had known that they were anything but. Melissa had seen Stiles’ father tear himself apart over cases just like Morgan’s and it was her nature to protect her family. Derek nodded at her but didn’t take his eyes off of Stiles. Stiles sighed deeply in response. There was a small part of him that was hoping to ignore the last week, but now that it was out in the open, he knew there was no avoiding it. Melissa blew them both a kiss before getting in her car and driving off with a honk of her horn. 

Stiles shook his head fondly as he turned back toward Derek. “Mom’s, right?” Derek stiffened and Stiles instantly regretted his words. He made a mental note to detective some information out of Derek when he felt a little bit more comfortable. After all, Stiles wanted to know everything about Derek. “So, it’s, uh, been a while, huh?” A week. It had been a week, but finally seeing Derek in front of him was like returning from war after a year long deployment. 

“Come here,” Derek said shyly, holding out a hand toward Stiles. Something seemed to break in Stiles as he pushed off of his car and took a few long strides to reach Derek. He threaded his fingers into Derek’s hair and Derek’s slid around his waist, tugging him the rest of the way before they were kissing. Stiles needed Derek’s lips like he needed air and their mouths moved frantically over one another’s. Stiles tasted the faint remnants of the pie he was promised and it tasted like home, like family, in a way that had Stiles’ skin tingling. He pushed up onto his toes and deepened the kiss, letting his tongue plunge into Derek’s mouth, needing to taste everything Derek had to offer. 

Derek hummed into the kiss and the noise was like a song in Stiles’ ears. It was one Stiles knew he would have stuck in his head until something better took its place, but better didn’t seem quite possible at that moment. When Stiles tugged on Derek’s hair and bit down on his bottom lip, a soft grumble sounded between them as he was pushed back into the car behind them. It took everything in Stiles not to wrap his legs around Derek’s waist and let himself be covered by him. Derek pulled away and Stiles didn’t even try to hide the whine of disappointment. It seeped through the panting and desperation leaving Stiles’ lungs. 

“You’re early,” Derek noted in a whisper, pushing a fallen strand of hair off of Stiles’ face. Stiles smiled widely and laughed as he moved his hands to Derek’s shoulders and squeezed gently as if reminding himself that Derek was really in front of him.

“I am. Is that okay? I can leave--” Stiles teased as he gestured to the driver’s side door he was pressed against. Derek glared at him and braced his arms on either side of Stiles’ like he was blocking any exit. Stiles had never felt safer. 

“You heard Melissa. You’re stuck here so I can be sure you’re not working,” Derek concluded, nodding his head as if he had decided that was the only viable option to ensure Melissa’s words stayed true. Stiles rolled his eyes and pushed at Derek’s chest, but when he didn’t budge, Stiles crossed his arms. 

“I have police training, Hale. You think I can’t get past you?” Stiles asked with a raise of his eyebrows. Derek seemed to think about it for a moment, contemplating as he looked up at the sky. When he looked back down at Stiles, he smirked and shook his head. 

“Werewolf, remember?” Derek said smugly. 

Stiles let out a laugh. “You seem to forget I belong to a pack of werewolves and run a police force filled with the things,” Stiles challenged as he narrowed his eyes. Derek narrowed his right back, pinning Stiles’ wrists to the car and tilting his head in his own silent challenge. Stiles tried to move his wrists and realized that Derek was definitely a lot stronger than he looked. But then again, so was Stiles. He grinned at Derek before pushing his wrists up and twisting them out. They easily slid out of Derek’s grip, much to his surprise, and Derek reached for his shoulders to hold him in place. Stiles ducked and pushed off of the car, his shoulder connecting with Derek’s abdomen as he pulled him to the ground. 

The dangerous growl from Luke had a shiver jolting through Stiles’ spine. “Dość!” Derek yelled, his eyes glowing blue as he glared at Luke who whined and laid down, resting his head on his paws. Stiles pouted and held a hand out to him before glaring at Derek. 

“He didn’t mean anything by it!” Stiles complained, resting his other hand on Derek’s chest to keep him in place on the hard gravel of the driveway. Derek grunted and moved his hands to Stiles’ hips, holding him in place as Stiles leaned toward the sad looking dog. 

“You say that until he literally rips your throat out with his teeth,” Derek retorted with a scoff. 

“He’d never do that to me. Right, Lu?” Luke tilted his head at Stiles but looked at Derek for reassurance. Stiles sighed and followed his eye line, leaning down to press his forehead to Derek’s. “Alright, you win. But  _ only _ as the person Luke listens to more. I got away from you in less than ten seconds. Tell me you’re impressed,” Stiles said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back onto Derek’s bent knees. 

“Can I tell you that when there aren’t rocks digging into my back?” Derek asked, his voice strained. Stiles laughed and stood up, holding a hand out to Derek to help him follow. Derek swatted it away and rolled his eyes as he stood up and glared in Stiles’ direction. 

“Now who’s a bitter wolf?” Stiles teased before pressing himself back up against Derek and batting his eyelashes as quickly as he could. “Doesn’t it make you hot to find someone - a  _ human, _ no less - who can match you?” Derek blushed and it was all the admission Stiles needed. He pressed a gentle kiss to Derek’s lips and started toward the house, pulling Derek along with him. 

“It was an unfair competition and you know it,” Derek called after him and Stiles laughed as he pushed open the door.

“Didn’t you promise me food? I haven’t eaten a home cooked meal in days, Der. Woo me!” Stiles demanded. 

“I thought you were the one doing the wooing,” Derek teased and Stiles couldn’t stop smiling even if he had wanted to. “I believe you used the term ‘courting’?” Stiles gaped as Derek pushed past him, a smirk on his own lips. 

“Derek Hale, one week without me, and all of a sudden, you’re-- making jokes?” Stiles followed him into the kitchen as he took a plate of premade hamburgers from the fridge and set them on the island. Stiles shook his head when Derek didn’t answer. “I feel like I’m talking to an entirely different person,” Stiles commented as he lifted the plastic off of the plate to inspect the meat. Derek smacked his hand away playfully. 

“I may not be an original recipe kind of guy, but I do know how to cook a good burger, Stilinski,” Derek said as he took out another plate of vegetables for the burgers. Stiles nodded, very impressed with Derek. There was a twinge of something in his heart that he couldn’t ignore. Something that told him he didn’t deserve to be having this fun-filled night when there was a murderer in his town. Derek must have picked up on it as he put the plate down and ran a hand over Stiles’ cheek, smiling softly down at him. Stiles silently cursed his werewolf abilities and sighed. 

“You didn’t have to go through all of this trouble,” Stiles commented as he gestured toward the plates. Derek tilted his head and furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Not to burst your bubble, but I would have made these hamburgers for myself and Luke if you weren’t here. It’s pretty selfish of me to invite you along, really,” Derek said with a shrug. Stiles smiled up at him and sent him a questioning look. 

“And how is that?” Stiles asked, very intrigued as to what Derek could be selfish about. Stiles was pretty sure that Derek was one of the most selfless people he’d had the pleasure of knowing. 

“Obviously I took you away from something you’d rather be doing,” Derek noted, distracting himself by tossing away the plastic over the dishes. 

“There’s nothing…” Stiles started to disagree but knew it was pointless. Werewolves had always read him easily, his heartbeat betraying him with every lie he told, and Derek wasn’t going to be any different. “You heard about what happened,” Stiles said and although it should have been a question, it wasn’t. If both Scott and Melissa had seen Derek in the last week, he would know everything that was happening in Beacon Hills. It was unavoidable with those two as McCall’s had an eerie way of including everyone in the town's gossip, no matter how hard Scott would deny it. 

“You left in a rush on Sunday and it wasn’t too hard to figure out when I stopped at the Market,” Derek said with a nod. There was a small part of Stiles that appreciated that Derek hadn’t thrown Melissa and Scott under the bus, but he still sighed as he was confronted with what he was hoping to avoid. He rested his head in his hands and tried to wipe the tiredness he suddenly felt off of his face. 

“Can we eat first? I want to ignore my problems just a little bit longer.” Derek nodded, a flash of understanding crossing his face. Stiles should have known Derek would be the first person to understand not wanting to talk about whatever weight a person was carrying. 

“Scott has some ideas for the porch,” Derek said, gesturing toward the screen door. “Why don’t we toss these on the grill and I can tell you all about how he, just like your mother, made their own way into my house while you were busy.” Derek tried his hardest to sound annoyed, but Stiles saw right through it. Derek liked his best friend and his mother and that thought alone warmed him a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“Yeah?” Stiles asked as he followed Derek onto the porch. “Made themselves right at home?” Stiles asked as he sat in a chair and stretched his legs onto the table. Derek eyed him before turning on the grill. 

“Must be a Beacon Hills thing,” Derek concluded as he knocked Stiles’ feet off the table. Stiles just laughed and reached for Derek’s hand, holding onto it like he was afraid if he let go, he wouldn’t be at home anymore. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love writing their banter. I think they're quite possibly the cutest freaking couple in Beacon Hills. Don't you agree?? 😏
> 
> If you're not already following, I have a [Tumblr](https://sparkandwolf.tumblr.com) specifically for my Sterek obsession so feel free to follow it for updates and snippets and other Sterek content. I am always accepting prompts and questions, so please give me a shout!
> 
> Also, feel free to follow my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/thatnerdemilyj) and let me know what you think. 
> 
> Please, please, please let me know what you think of this in the comments and leave kudos if you enjoyed it! See you next week!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote this entire chapter today so I'm extremely sorry for the delay. 
> 
> And also incredibly grateful for [Morgan](https://skylar102.tumblr.com/) who always lifts me up when I'm feeling like a horrible author. You're the greatest beta an author could ask for. ♥️
> 
> Please enjoy a teeeeeeny tiny bit of angst, but lots of cute.

“It wasn’t my fault, though!” Stiles yelled as he discreetly tossed a french fry down to Luke. Apparently, it wasn’t discreet enough as Derek shot him a disapproving look. Stiles retaliated by throwing a fry in Derek’s direction that he expertly caught in his mouth. Stiles laughed loudly in surprise and resisted the urge to make a dog joke although it was incredibly hard. 

“You’re telling me that you get possessed by an evil fox spirit and somehow it’s not your fault?” Derek asked suspiciously, tilting his head at Stiles and crossing his arms across his chest. Stiles sighed and kicked his feet up onto Derek’s lap as if they belonged there. He expected Derek to push them off and was pleasantly surprised when Derek let his arms rest across his shins. 

Stiles glared at Derek anyway as he said offendedly, “Hey, I resent that!” He couldn’t be too annoyed as he was focused on the way Derek was stroking his fingers across the fabric of Stiles’ jeans. He didn’t think Derek was even aware of the tender movements; the way his fingers skittered across the fabric, tugging every few seconds on the loose piece of string sticking from the seam. 

Stiles watched as Derek chuckled softly and continued eating his perfectly cooked burger. The food was nothing less than delicious. Stiles felt like all of the weight that had been on his shoulders the last week dissipated with every huff of laughter that left Derek’s lips and every eye roll that Stiles knew he didn’t really mean. Luke’s head rested next to Stiles’ feet, both of them tapping away as Luke licked his lips, hoping for another dropped fry. 

“Is that burger okay?” Derek asked. Stiles had barely touched it, his stomach churning after only a few bites. He realized that he hadn’t eaten enough in the last few days and as much as he wanted to scarf down the tasty meal, there was something holding him back. He blamed the skip in his heart and the sweat forming on his brow when Derek placed his food down and squeezed Stiles’ calf. 

“The burger is great, Der. These fries are seasoned to perfection, too,” Stiles commented as he tossed another one in his mouth. Derek seemed unconvinced judging by the raise of his eyebrow and Stiles sighed heavily in response. He leaned back in the chair and attempted to remove his feet from Derek’s lap, but Derek squeezed his calves tighter to keep them in place. 

“If you don’t want to eat, you don’t have to eat. We can--” Derek seemed to wrack his brain for a moment, staring up at the sky. “I don’t know what people do on dates,” Derek admitted, pressing the heel of his hand into his shoulder. Stiles tilted his head and took a sip of the beer on the table. 

“Why do you do that?” Stiles asked. Derek furrowed his eyebrows in question so Stiles tilted the neck of the bottle at Derek’s shoulder. “You press down on your shoulder when you’re anxious or nervous,” Stiles noted. Derek seemed to freeze before his hand darted away from his shoulder as if scared to be caught. Stiles thought his eyes might have flashed, but it could have been a trick of the light. 

“I just do,” Derek said, by way of an answer. Stiles wasn’t in the mood for Derek’s half-answers, though. He plopped his feet down to the ground as Derek had loosened his hold on them and leaned his elbows on his knees. 

“That’s not an answer and you know it,” Stiles challenged, narrowing his eyes as Derek glanced over at him. He didn’t seem angry, so Stiles pushed. There was a small part of him that knew he was deflecting. He hadn’t been able to crack even the tiniest piece of Morgan’s case, but if he could widdle more information about Derek, maybe he would feel better. As the thought moved through his head, he immediately felt guilty, but not guilty enough to stop.

“Don’t push this, Stiles,” Derek warned. There was a low growl deep in Derek’s chest, but it wasn’t enough to warn Stiles off. For some reason, he trusted Derek and knew he wouldn’t hurt him even if he was being unreasonably irritating. 

“What happened to your shoulder, Derek?” Stiles asked, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve told you a lot about me, why don’t you share something?” Stiles reiterated, hearing the annoyance in his tone, but not knowing how to stop it. 

“Luke is eight years old,” Derek said tightly. Stiles rolled his eyes and stood up from the chair, grabbing his not nearly empty dish as he walked back inside. He tossed it onto the counter, flinching when it crashed on the surface. He braced his hands on the edge of the counter and squeezed until his knuckles turned white. If Derek hadn’t heard his heartbeat quickening in panic before, he must have heard it now. The gentle hand on his back caused him to turn around abruptly before he backed away from Derek and held up his hands. 

“I should just-- go,” Stiles said, running a hand through his hair. He was annoyingly aware of how in need of a haircut he was as his fingers caught in a tangle. He turned toward the door, but Luke was already there blocking his exit. He sat patiently, his head tilted and mouth open as he stared up at Stiles. “That’s not fair,” Stiles whined. He had to leave, had to get out of this place that suddenly felt constricting. He could barely breathe until he felt Derek’s hand on his arm. He hadn’t even noticed Derek walk over to him, didn’t honestly think that Derek would stop him from leaving. 

“I bought ice cream,” Derek said, voice a bit shaky. Stiles peered up at him, one eye narrowed and his eyebrows furrowed. 

“What?” 

Derek sighed heavily and cupped Stiles’ cheek in his hand. “I bought  _ ice cream _ ,” Derek repeated, emphasizing the words like they should have meant something to Stiles. He continued staring, but couldn’t stop himself from leaning into Derek’s comforting touch. 

“What kind?” Stiles asked as he let his eyes close. Derek laughed and brushed his thumb along Stiles’ cheek before dragging it down his neck, shoulder, and arm. He stopped at Stiles’ hand to lace their fingers together before pulling him over to the island and pushing him down onto one of the seats. 

“I didn’t know what kind you liked, so I got neapolitan. I figured everyone either likes vanilla, chocolate, or strawberry, right?” Stiles stared at Derek. He spent a few moments searching his face, watching as he turned toward the freezer and pulled out the gallon tub. He reached up toward the cupboard and came back with two bowls and two spoons and Stiles felt like he couldn’t breathe again. 

“Derek…” Stiles started to speak, but Derek shook his head and laughed. 

“I don’t eat sugar. I mean, I try not to eat sugar. Sweets aren’t really something that I usually crave, but then Melissa started bringing over the pie and she mentioned that you really enjoyed foods  _ filled _ with sugar. And I can’t make pie, so I bought ice cream,” Derek finished with a sigh. Stiles smiled up at him and gestured toward the leftover pie on the island. 

“But we have pie,” Stiles noted. Derek looked over at it and closed his eyes, pursing his lips in what Stiles could only describe as fond annoyance. 

“I wasn’t expecting to have pie,” Derek said, his voice exasperated. “Melissa just-- came by. With pie. I don’t know why she did that,” Derek commented as he handed the ice cream scoop to Stiles. Stiles grabbed it but didn’t make a move toward the container. He stared over at Derek and narrowed his eyes again. 

“Are you not grateful for it? Do you not like it?” Stiles asked and he knew the second the words were out of his mouth that he was trying to pick a fight again. Derek glared at him with equal intensity and rested his palms on the counter. 

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Derek sighed and shook his head. “I don’t understand why she would bring me more pie,” he explained as he stared at the plate. Stiles rolled his eyes and stuck the scoop in the ice cream, rougher than he probably should have. 

“Believe it or not, Derek, the people in this town care about others who live in this town,” Stiles said, sadder than he wanted to. 

He instantly thought of Morgan’s family before he could stop it; her parents holding onto each other with everything they had in them, her sisters trembling in shock. He thought of Isaac’s disbelieving grimace and the Market’s owner who had known Morgan since she was of age to work. Stiles felt his breath catch in his throat. 

“Stiles--” Derek started, but Stiles held up his hand. He couldn’t handle whatever Derek was about to say. He just wanted to be angry. 

“This town  _ cares _ about people. Everyone in this town loves everyone, would-- would die for everyone! And you just come in and-- and--” Stiles threw his hands up and pushed back the chair he was sitting in. It slid roughly against the ground, the sound causing Luke to growl, his hackles raised in defense. “Dość,” Stiles commanded but it was no use as Luke’s eye darted toward Derek and he made no move to relax. 

“Stiles,” Derek said, firmer that time. Stiles took a step forward and Luke bared his teeth. 

“Are you gonna call off your attack dog?” Stiles spat, keeping a careful eye on Luke. There were a few moments of silence, more than Stiles would have liked, and he used them to imagine all of the ways that Luke could kill him in a second. The dog could bite his throat, claw his eyes out, dig his fangs deep into Stiles’ side.  _ Just like Morgan _ , Stiles thought as his hands fell to his sides. 

“Łatwo,” Derek said softly. Luke’s eyes darted between the two men before settling back on Stiles. He thought Luke would have moved away from the door, but Luke sat down in front of it like he was challenging Stiles to try and leave. Stiles sighed and ran his hand through his too-long hair again, letting out a dark chuckle. 

“Your dog is holding me hostage,” Stiles commented, finally bringing himself to glance back at Derek. Derek watched him carefully like he was afraid if he said anything, Stiles would disappear. Stiles wished Derek would just let him. 

“You can’t stop your town from dying,” Derek said and Stiles’ heart leaped into his throat. He wished he had something to brace himself against as it felt like Derek hit him right in the stomach with full werewolf strength and he struggled to catch his breath. For a moment, he was speechless. He couldn’t sort his thoughts enough to think about what he should have said and instead, he let his words slide out like venom. 

“That’s my  _ job _ , Derek!” Stiles shouted, surging toward Derek. “The town isn’t supposed to die! No one in this town should! And maybe if I did my  _ job _ the way I was supposed to, Morgan wouldn’t be dead, Derek! Don’t you get that?!” He was face to face with a werewolf, holding his hands up in frustration. He knew he was lucky he still had all of his appendages attached, but he couldn’t stop. Somewhere deep inside he knew Derek wouldn’t hurt him even as his eyes flashed the bright blue color that was clearly a warning. 

* * *

Derek felt like he was walking on eggshells with every word he said to Stiles. Every time he thought he had calmed Stiles down, he erupted again like the smallest shift was enough to set him off. Derek tried to hold his wolf back, but with Stiles pushing at every single button he had, it was becoming harder with each moment. 

“You know that’s not true,” Derek said softly. The words were supposed to be comforting, but he could see Stiles’ cheeks reddening with anger after he had finished. Stiles rested his hands on his hips and shook his head and Derek figured he couldn’t see past his own fault. 

“How is it not? You were part of a pack once, yeah?” Derek couldn’t stop his eyes from flashing again and he watched as a lightbulb seemed to burst in Stiles’ brain. He gave Stiles a warning stare, but it didn’t seem to work in the way Derek had hoped as Stiles continued talking. “Was someone in your pack ever injured? Killed?” Derek couldn’t hold his wolf back as a low growl pushed out of Derek’s chest. “They did, didn’t they? Is that what you never want to share with the class? That you’ve experienced loss like the rest of us?” It felt like a dagger straight into Derek’s heart. He couldn’t even begin to explain to Stiles just how much loss he had endured and he thought back to his father, his mother, his siblings, his entire family that he could barely picture in his mind anymore. 

“Watch it, Sheriff,” Derek warned, his voice low and husky, a blinking caution sign he hoped Stiles wouldn’t ignore. Derek saw the wheels turning in Stiles’ brain as his eyes moved back and forth between Derek’s still glowing with caution. 

“Sheriff? I wasn’t even meant to  _ be _ sheriff. I can’t even protect  _ one _ innocent person when all of the clues are right in front of me. How am I supposed to protect my family? My friends?” Derek wasn’t entirely sure that Stiles knew he was talking out loud, but if he needed to get his words out, Derek wasn’t going to interrupt him. “And I know you’re a werewolf, so are half of my friends, but it’s still my job to  _ protect _ you,” he exclaimed. Stiles seemed to burst out of his own mind when Derek rested his hand on his shoulder, pressing his palm into it in the familiar way that calmed him. He figured if it worked for him, why couldn’t it work for someone else. 

“From what I’ve gathered,” Derek started slowly and waited until Stiles met his gaze, “your family and friends don’t need you to protect them.” Stiles opened his mouth, no doubt to argue Derek’s words, so Derek glared at him icily. “As much as you want to, you can’t protect everyone, Stiles. Believe me, I know.” There was a sadness in Derek’s words and he hoped that Stiles heard it. 

“If I can’t protect them, then why am I even doing this, Derek?” Stiles asked, his voice filled with an uncharacteristic sorrow that had Derek’s heart clenching in his chest. He stepped forward and rested his forehead against Stiles’ wishing he could take away Stiles’ pain. 

“You said it yourself,” Derek started, holding Stiles’ hands in his own, “this town cares about people, you more than most. I may not have been here for very long, but I see it in everything you do.” Derek sighed and pulled away just enough to catch Stiles’ gaze. 

“I could have stopped her from dying. I-- I could have looked into the animal deaths closer or put out a curfew or even established a mandatory buddy system or--” Derek pressed his lips to Stiles’ to cut him off, not really knowing what else to do to get him to stop. He had been through this so many times before, convincing himself that there were so many things that could have been done to prevent his family from burning. He couldn’t see Stiles go through that spiral, too. 

“My dad was a cop,” Derek said quickly. The words seemed to shock Stiles into stunned silence, his mouth gaping open as his eyes searched Derek’s. Derek wasn’t sure why he hadn’t brought it up before. He saw a little of his dad in a lot of things that Stiles did; the way he stood with authority, the way he asked questions not many others would think to ask, his need to protect those around him, and the way he loved his family. It made Derek’s heart surge, good or bad he wasn’t quite sure. 

“He was?” Stiles asked, raising his slightly trembling hand to Derek’s that was still pressed against his shoulder. Derek went to pull his hand away, the urge to press it against his own shoulder strong, but Stiles gripped his like a lifeline so Derek kept it still. He nodded slowly and let out a breathless chuckle. 

“He was an alpha, so it only made sense that he worked in law enforcement, right?” Derek asked and Stiles nodded unconvincingly but said nothing else. Derek looked away for a moment to try and gather his thoughts, unwilling to fully expose himself to Stiles just yet. “He always had this… innate need to make sure everyone around him was safe.” Derek sent a pointed look in Stiles’ direction causing Stiles to scoff in return. 

He shook his head and retorted, “It’s a cop thing as much as a werewolf thing. I would know.” Stiles smiled softly as he looked down and Derek saw Luke pushed up against Stiles’ leg, glancing up at the two of them. Stiles rested his hand on Luke’s head before glancing back up at Derek. “Was he a good cop?” Stiles’ voice was shaking like he was afraid of the answer. Derek smiled again, something he was still getting used to as he spent more time with Stiles. It didn’t hurt as much as he thought it might to talk about his father, so he continued. 

“He made Captain when I was ten after nearly 15 years with his department. He was loyal, an expert shot, and had strength that his superiors couldn’t understand. He was… the best. Up until--” Derek paused and finally pulled his hand away from Stiles’. Stiles let him that time, seeming to understand why he needed it back. Derek pressed it to his shoulder and inhaled deeply. “He died when I was 16.” Derek saw the panic rush over Stiles’ face and quickly remembered that Stiles’ dad was the sheriff before him. It must have been his worst nightmare to lose his dad on the job. 

“I didn’t--” Before he could finish, Derek shook his head and rested a hand on Stiles’ waist.

“It was hunters. Him being a cop had nothing to do with his death, thankfully, but that didn’t make it hurt any less for my family,” Derek explained. Stiles nodded and took a step closer, resting a hand on Derek’s cheek. 

“It was Morgan  _ this _ time. I didn’t--” Stiles trailed off and sighed shakily like he was trying to compose himself. Derek squeezed his waist and ran his thumb along Stiles’ hipbone, letting him know that he was there to listen. “I didn’t know her family. They kept to themselves mostly. Nothing supernatural about them that I was aware of.” Derek nodded his understanding. She was innocent, the hardest of deaths to handle. 

“And?” Derek urged as Stiles paused for a little too long. He sighed and let his forehead fall against Derek’s shoulder. Derek could smell his exhaustion with every passing second. 

“How am I supposed to protect them when I don’t even know they need protecting?” Stiles asked pitifully. Derek nodded, letting his chin rest against the top of Stiles’ head. Before he could answer, Stiles sighed again. “I’ve never been a werewolf, or a banshee, or a kanima, or a hellhound, or… anything. The closest I got was when I was the villain the rest of my pack had to fight.” Stiles looked up at Derek, his eyes shining with tears that Derek knew he wouldn’t shed. “All I have is my badge and my gun and-- What if that is never enough?” Stiles asked, sniffing to try and compose himself. 

Derek stared down at Stiles and he didn’t think he could be more enamored with a person than he was at that moment. Stiles was a special kind of human that Derek had never had the pleasure of meeting before. Derek knew he wasn’t defenseless, that he could take care of a pack the way any alpha would, but he also knew what it felt like to have that lingering thought of ‘what if’ cracking around inside that left doubt in everything he did. 

“It’s always been enough,” Derek said simply, hoping Stiles believed him. They stared at each other for a moment, an unspoken connection forming between them that neither had wanted to break before Stiles sighed and pulled back only as far as Derek let him. 

“Did you talk about yourself so I would stop pestering you?” Stiles asked playfully and Derek was glad for the tone because it meant that his words had eased Stiles’ worry at least a little. Derek let out a huff of unexpected laughter and shook his head, turning it enough to press a gentle kiss onto Stiles’ palm. 

“I’m talking about this because I can understand how it feels to have an entire town’s weight on your shoulders. My dad, he… loved our town. He did everything in his power to protect it as an officer and as an alpha.” Derek paused and sighed heavily as he closed his eyes. Stiles had given him an out, a reason to stop opening up, but Derek couldn’t take it. Instead, he let more words flow. “There were cases that kept him up at night. I would find him at the dining room table with piles of papers and folders and pictures, trying with everything in him to put all of the pieces together. But sometimes? Sometimes there are missing pieces that even the best of cops can’t find.” 

Derek flinched as Stiles threw his arms around Derek’s neck and pulled him close, pressing their lips passionately together. Derek savored the kiss as he winded his arms around Stiles’ waist. “You think your dad would have liked me?” Stiles asked shyly as he pulled away. Derek chuckled and pressed his nose into Stiles’ neck, inhaling deeply and holding in his calming scent before running his nose to Stiles’ ear. 

“You would have driven him insane,” Derek teased. Stiles went to pull away, clearly offended at such a statement, but Derek threaded his fingers in Stiles’ hair to keep him still. “You would have driven him insane,  _ but yes, _ he would have liked you. You would have been pack,” Derek admitted. Derek hadn’t thought fondly about pack before he moved to Beacon Hills. He had been alone with only Luke for so long, that he didn’t give himself a chance to think about it. With Stiles in his arms, he couldn’t stop the word from echoing across his brain. Derek heard Stiles’ heartbeat pick up as he smiled, a slight blush forming on his cheeks. Derek knew that Stiles was aware of how important pack was and was glad he didn’t have to explain further. 

“Good,” Stiles said simply. There were a few moments of silence before Stiles sighed again. “I should leave,” Stiles started and Derek wasn’t expecting the panicked feeling that surged through his body at the words. “You made this perfectly wonderful dinner and bought me  _ dessert _ and I--” Stiles cut himself off as he looked down at his feet. A small smile passed over Derek’s lips as Stiles pulled his bottom lip into his mouth. It was the first ounce of shyness Derek had seen in the usually confident man in front of him. 

“You  _ should _ have left many times before, Stiles. But you didn’t,” Derek commented as he thought back to the number of times that Stiles had pushed his way into Derek’s life even though all of his complaints. Stiles nodded as he glanced over at Luke and then back up at Derek like he had made a decision. 

“I didn’t,” Stiles repeated as he searched Derek’s face. Derek took a small step closer as he squeezed Stiles’ hand in his. Stiles glanced over Derek’s shoulder and gasped, pushing past Derek who whirled to follow. Stiles reached for the ice cream container that was melting all over the side of the gallon and pouted at Derek. 

“ _ Jesus, _ Stiles,” Derek whined softly and rolled his eyes at Stiles’ clear overreaction to the spilled dessert. Stiles grinned the minute the sound left Derek’s lips. 

“It’s a good thing melted ice cream is the best kind of ice cream,” Stiles commented as he scooped all three flavors into a bowl for himself and Derek. Derek raised an eyebrow at him as Stiles licked a bit of stray liquid off of his fingers. “What?” He asked innocently

“I could have gotten any flavor of ice cream in the world and you would have eaten it, wouldn’t you?” Stiles looked up in thought for a moment before nodding his head in enthusiastic agreement, pressing his sticky lips to Derek’s cheek. Derek didn’t mind it much.

“Pretty much. I mean, my favorite is Cherry Garcia from Ben & Jerry’s, but this is good, too,” Stiles said as he took a large bite from his bowl. Derek watched as he grabbed both his and Derek’s desserts and made his way over to the couch, placing the bowls on the table before patting the seat next to him. “What kind of movies do you have on this not-so-fancy television?” Stiles asked and Derek had no choice but to follow. 

Derek sat down beside him and watched Stiles with a questioning look on his face. A few moments prior, he was waiting for the other shoe to drop and for Stiles to leave and never come back. He wasn’t sure how to feel with a peppy Stiles relaxing on his couch. Before he could comment on it further, Stiles kicked his feet onto Derek’s lap and grabbed his bowl. Derek looked at him incredulously as Stiles handed Derek’s over, but Stiles just smiled. 

“You go from zero to 100 quicker than anyone I’ve ever met,” Derek noted as he took a small bite of his ice cream. 

Stiles took a larger bite and looked at Derek with a sugar-filled smile on his face. “In more ways than one, baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter fought me every step of the way but the conversations needed to happen. 
> 
> If you're not already following, I have a [Tumblr](https://sparkandwolf.tumblr.com) specifically for my Sterek obsession so feel free to follow it for updates and snippets and other Sterek content. I am always accepting prompts and questions, so please give me a shout!
> 
> Also, feel free to follow my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/thatnerdemilyj) and let me know what you think. 
> 
> Please, please, please let me know what you think of this in the comments and leave kudos if you enjoyed it! See you next week!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've got a cute morning ahead in which Stiles can't contain himself (see rating) and Derek helps Scott and Allison with a wonderful realization. 
> 
> Here is my important reminder to everyone that [Morgan](https://skylar102.tumblr.com/) is my QUEEN BETA and I don't know what I would do without her. 
> 
> Please enjoy!!

Stiles wanted to believe that it was Derek’s bed that had him sleeping through the night for the first time that week, but he figured it was useless to lie to himself. He could feel the warmth radiating off of Derek’s chest and onto the skin of Stiles’ arm that was thrown over it and felt Derek’s fingers playing with the hair hanging too far down his neck. One of Derek’s arms was looped behind Stiles’ head, the other tracing soft patterns over his forearm. Stiles was flat on his stomach and he sighed happily because he couldn’t think of a time when he was comfier. 

“You invited Luke,” Derek grumbled as he pressed his lips to Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles turned his head to peer down at the foot of the bed where Luke was doing everything he could to avoid looking up at the two men. Stiles moved closer to Derek and turned to mimic Derek’s pose, patting his chest and calling Luke’s name. The dog didn’t budge, though Stiles saw the tilt of his ears and knew he was listening. 

“It’s a travesty that you don’t allow this gentle giant on the bed in the first place,” Stiles scoffed as he turned back toward Derek, letting his hand rest gently on the steady beat of Derek’s heart. Derek rolled his eyes and laced their fingers together as he glanced at Stiles. 

“I believe you called him an ‘attack dog’ less than 24 hours ago,” Derek retorted. Stiles gasped and tried to pull his hand away, but Derek just held tighter. Stiles glanced down at Luke who gave Stiles the saddest look he had ever seen a dog give. Stiles pushed his face into Derek’s chest in response and whined softly. 

“I didn’t  _ mean _ it, Lukey. I even let you sleep on the bed unlike Mr. Grumpy Wolf over here,” Stiles said pointedly as he poked a finger to Derek’s chin. Derek pretended to bite it and Stiles just gaped up at him, brushing at the beard on his cheek. 

“What?” Derek said as Stiles stared. He couldn’t look away, not that he really wanted to. 

When Stiles had first met Derek, he was all hard lines and intimidation. Stiles remembered his police instincts telling him to follow Derek because he might have been up to no good. Derek’s  _ was _ good, though. Stiles had known that. He had known exactly how to calm Stiles down the day prior, what to say to make Stiles feel just a little better. He didn’t try to push aside what Stiles felt or ignore his emotions like Stiles thought he might. He was full of surprises and, god, Stiles really wanted to kiss him. 

“You’re--” Stiles didn’t know how he was going to finish that sentence. Derek was… beautiful? Kind? Rough around the edges? Soft? Sexy as hell? Stiles had a lot of words stacked up in his own personal dictionary to describe exactly what Derek was, but he couldn’t find the ones he wanted as the previous night rushed through his head. 

Derek had opened up to him the night before. Derek  _ trusted _ him with a little fact about his family, that his father was a cop, and it was something that Stiles didn’t see coming. Usually, when someone met Stiles in uniform, their first sentence was ‘ _ my *insert relative here* was a cop and we love the Boys in Blue _ ’. He understood why people did it, cops didn’t have such good names in many parts of the country, but for some reason, it always threw him off. Being a cop, a protector, an enforcer of law and order, was just something he had grown up with and something he felt destined to be. 

It was like no word could encapture what that had meant to Stiles, so he pushed himself up to cover Derek’s lips with his. Stiles savored the kiss, moving his lips slowly and steadily like he was memorizing the feel of Derek’s mouth on his. To Stiles’ surprise, Derek followed his lead, letting go of Stiles’ hand in favor of wrapping his arms around Stiles’ waist and pulling him even closer. Stiles let his tongue brush along Derek’s bottom lip before he sucked on it lightly, not quite deepening the kiss, but trying to figure out what made Derek tick. Stiles felt Derek’s fingers press harder into his sides and smiled to himself as he learned one more new thing about Derek. 

He was too lost in the kiss that he hadn’t realized his thumb was pressed to the pulse point in Derek’s neck until a hand was covering his, pushing it closer instead of pulling it away. Stiles knew that werewolves were finicky about their necks - Scott had told him many times that it was the weakest part of them and the surefire way to get them to submit - so Stiles’ natural instinct was to pull his hand away, but Derek held it in place. 

Stiles couldn’t focus on what that might have meant, though, not when Derek’s tongue tasted so good from where it toyed with his own. Stiles let out a soft, almost breathless gasp as he rutted his hips against Derek without being able to stop it. The movement seemed to spark something inside of Derek as he moved his hands to Stiles’ ass and pulled him so Stiles was straddling his waist. Stiles let out a grunt as their groins pushed together and had to pull away from the kiss to catch his breath. 

Derek took the opportunity to lap at Stiles’ exposed neck, nibbling on the heated skin. Stiles leaned into Derek in any way he could; into the damp lips against his neck, the warm chest uncovered by pesky clothing, into the hardness he could feel pressing against the thin fabric of Derek’s boxers. Stiles tilted his head to give Derek more access and closed his eyes, taking in everything Derek was making him feel with a simple press of mouth and hands. 

“God, Derek,” Stiles husked, his lips only a breath away from Derek’s ear. He let his tongue trace the lobe slowly as his hands scratched their way down Derek’s solid chest. He couldn’t stop his hips from thrusting even if he tried and he was damn sure not going to try. He could feel himself hardening with every grind, feeling like a teenager again as he circled his hips over and over. 

He knew he should do something more, like reach his hand down and touch either of their cocks or slide his way down Derek’s body and take him into his mouth like he had been craving for the entire week, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop what he was doing. All he could manage was to pant breathlessly in Derek’s ear, his forehead dropping onto Derek’s shoulder as Derek’s hands pushed underneath his briefs to knead at his ass. 

“Keep going,” Derek grunted when he was done marking up Stiles’ neck. Stiles could only nod against Derek’s shoulder, letting Derek’s hands guide his hips at a quick pace. Stiles moaned as Derek’s fingers brushed over his hole, a teasing ghost of a touch that had Stiles jolting. He crashed his lips to Derek’s in a messy way that could barely be considered a kiss, his tongue attempting to taste every inch of Derek’s mouth, but it didn’t cause Derek’s movements to stutter. His hips pushed off of the bed fitfully to meet Stiles’ with every thrust and his soft groans echoed in Stiles’ ear. 

“Fuck, Der, I--” Stiles’ voice strained as Derek threaded his fingers through Stiles’ hair. Derek tugged his head back roughly before sinking his teeth into the rapidly beating pulse in Stiles’ neck and it was just what Stiles needed to throw him over the edge. His hands gripped at Derek’s shoulders like a lifeline, the pain and pleasure pulsing through him like electricity, as he came messily into his briefs. He collapsed onto Derek, his breath heaving out of him like he had run a marathon and he laughed breathlessly as Derek squirmed underneath him. 

“I’ve got you,” Stiles assured as he slid his hand down Derek’s chest, his fingers brushing against Derek’s nipple and stroking across his abdomen before he grasped Derek’s cock firmly in his hand. Derek was solid and practically throbbing at his touch as Stiles pumped his wrist rapidly. He placed delicate kisses over Derek’s chest, licking a line up to his neck before biting at his jaw, and Derek grunted in pleasure. Stiles turned his head and the sight of Derek’s flushed face and sharp teeth biting into his lip was almost enough to have him hard again. 

“Stiles,” Derek whispered as he came and Stiles thought his name had never sounded better. He gasped into Derek’s ear as his name slipped out of Derek’s plump lips over and over again, Stiles pumping to the quick rhythm. Derek collapsed bonelessly against his pillow and Stiles brought his hand up to lick the small amount of Derek’s come off of his thumb. “Jesus Christ,” Derek groaned as he grabbed Stiles’ wrist in his hand. Before Stiles could react, Derek pushed him onto his back, pinning his wrists on either side of his head and connecting their lips in a fiery kiss. 

Stiles would never admit it out loud, but he loved it when Derek pushed him around. It reminded him of how easily Derek could break him and in how many different ways he could do it. His hips gyrated on their volition and Derek chuckled as he pulled away from the kiss. Stiles whined and pouted up at Derek as he craned his neck to try and kiss him again. Derek nuzzled into Stiles’ neck instead, pressing their chests together so Stiles could feel Derek’s strong heartbeat matching his own. 

“You smell like--” Derek paused, inhaling deeply before nipping at Stiles’ ear. Stiles waited for him to finish, but instead, he pulled himself away, sitting up in the bed and glancing at the covers like they had personally offended him. Stiles pushed up on his elbows and tilted his head at Derek before resting a hand on his back. 

“If I smell that bad, I can go take a shower,” Stiles offered and it must have been the right thing to say as Derek laughed softly and turned back toward him. Derek shook his head and ran a hand over his face. 

“My house smells like me, which is a first in a long while as you could have guessed.” At the small glance into Derek’s past, Stiles nodded, urging Derek to continue. “My bed smells like you, too. Your scent stayed for a few days after…” He trailed off again and Stiles thought he saw a blush on Derek’s cheeks. 

“Is that… bad?” Stiles asked, sitting up so that he was aligned with Derek in any way he could. For a moment, Derek’s hand hesitated like it was going to dig into his shoulder and Stiles was pleasantly surprised when he reached over to link their fingers together instead. 

“It’s different,” Derek concluded, chancing a glance over at Stiles. Stiles smiled at him before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. Stiles liked it when they kissed like that, slow and sure like they were something permanent. He felt his heart flutter with every scratch of Derek’s stubble against his chin. He pulled away reluctantly when Luke whined next to them. He had made his way off of the bed at some point in their morning sexcapade and was standing at the door, his eyes darting from the two men to the door with a pleading glance. 

“I’m gonna take a shower if you wanna…” He gestured toward Luke who’s ears perked at the motion and Derek laughed again, pressing a chaste kiss to Stiles’ cheek before sliding out of the bed. He leaned up to stretch and Stiles had to pull his eyes away from the smooth muscles of Derek’s back in order to focus again. 

“I’ll join you when I’m done?” Derek asked as he pulled on a shirt. Stiles licked his lips as his eyes wandered over the wet spot on Derek’s boxers. He pulled a pair of sweatpants on and rolled his eyes at Stiles before opening the door for Luke. He bounded down the stairs as Derek laughed, paused at the door for a moment too long. Stiles had thought that Derek was hesitating to leave him and it made his heart soar unexpectedly. “Five minutes,” Derek promised as he followed Luke, taking one last glance at Stiles as he made his own way downstairs. 

Stiles moved to the edge of the bed and stretched his arms above his head, his muscles straining just a little from the unexpected morning workout. He glanced around the room, noting it was just as tidy as it had been before, and smiled as he made his way to the bathroom. If he was counting down the minutes before Derek joined him in the shower, he kept it to himself. 

* * *

It was very possible that the smile on Derek’s face, knowing Stiles was upstairs making himself at home, would be a permanent fixture for him. If his sisters could see him dishing out food to his dog while holding back happy whistles, they would have teased him relentlessly. Derek had only one girlfriend when his family was alive and she moved away before they could really get serious, or as serious as high school lovers could be. He was too focused on his alpha training once his father died to put any energy toward people that weren’t his pack and his family mostly understood that. 

_ Pack. _ That word echoed in Derek’s head since the minute he moved to Beacon Hills. Even before he met Stiles, there was something about the town that screamed family, and Derek thought maybe that was what pulled him there. He heard Stiles humming faintly behind the flow of the water and shook his head fondly. If he believed in fate, he might have admitted he was there to meet Stiles. 

Shaking his head again to try and push out the unrealistic thoughts he shouldn’t be allowing himself to have, he walked to the back door where Luke was waiting patiently for his command. Derek opened the back door, but before he could give Luke the go-ahead, Luke bounded out the back door, his nose to the ground. He was snarling, growling territorially as he raced down the back steps. Derek’s eyes glowed and his claws sprouted from his fingertips as he followed closely behind. Luke was faster than him when he wasn’t shifted, but Derek kept up as best he could. They flew through the forest, Luke kicking up dirt with each leap, his barks reverberating off of the trees surrounding them. 

Luke stopped, his front feet digging into the ground when he reached a line of ash. Derek’s heart dropped into his stomach and he struggled to catch his breath as Luke laid down in front of Derek’s feet, stopping him from moving forward. Derek knew it had to be mountain ash at Luke’s silent language. He had trained Luke to smell for it, to warn Derek of its presence so he wouldn’t injure himself crossing it or get trapped in an ash circle. 

Derek leaned down to Luke’s level and patted his head gently as he praised, “Dobry, Luke. Good job, buddy,” Derek glanced around the forest, but couldn’t see or smell anything out of the ordinary. There was a faint waft of a wild animal, maybe deer, but no human. Derek’s heart seemed to steady for a moment until Luke looked back toward the house. “Stiles,” Derek said, jumping to his feet in a panic. He raced back to the house, Luke matching him stride for stride. Derek saw that he had left the door open and he cursed at himself for such a mistake. 

He leaped up the steps, grasping onto the railing to propel himself inside, only stopping to listen out for Stiles. His heart sank again when he no longer heard Stiles’ joyful whistling and he felt as though he couldn’t breathe when there weren’t any footsteps upstairs. His eyes darted over every inch of the living room before he noticed the front door was unlocked. He narrowed his eyes and took a few large steps, pulling it open with too much force, only to be confronted with Stiles’ shocked gasp. 

“Derek, what--?” Before he could finish, Derek wrapped Stiles up in his arms, pulling him close and breathing in his comforting scent. He smelled like his usual self, but on top of it was the faint scent of Derek’s shampoo that brought a sense of calm quicker than Derek could’ve expected. “Hey, big guy. You okay?” Stiles asked as his own arms wrapped around Derek’s neck. He laced them together behind Derek’s head, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. Derek was too aware of the breath heaving from his chest and Luke’s soft growls next to him were causing confusion to waft off of Stiles in fearful waves. 

“Łatwo,” Derek said with no heat in his voice. He pulled away from Stiles just enough to nod at Luke, letting him know that everything was okay. He caught Stiles’ gaze, his eyebrows raised and a worried frown on his face and it was enough to have Derek blushing and casting his eyes away. Stiles dipped his head down and pressed his nose to Derek’s cheek before placing a gentle hand over his heart. 

“You didn’t come to join me,” Stiles said with no malice in his voice. 

Derek sighed heavily and gripped at the shirt bunched at Stiles’ waist. He noticed it was one of his own and suppressed the whine that wanted to escape. “Luke ran away,” Derek said instead of explaining what he had seen in the woods. He hadn’t thought it was important now that Stiles was safely in his arms. Stiles nodded in response and leaned against Derek, hugging him tightly. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Derek wasn’t quite sure, but he nodded anyway. He turned his head back to Stiles and opened his mouth. He thought about mentioning the mountain ash, opening up to Stiles just a little bit more, but he heard the crushing of the gravel at the end of his driveway and pulled Stiles behind him instinctively to protect him from whoever was driving up. Stiles whooped happily, pushing past Derek to run down the steps before Derek could stop him as the truck came to a stop. 

“Sheriff, you really should be wearing pants. What kind of example are you setting for the town looking like that?” Scott teased as he ruffled Stiles’ hair. Stiles grabbed him in a headlock, almost tossing him to the ground, but Scott’s eyes flashed red as they wrestled. Derek looked on fondly as the two playfully fought. It reminded him of his own pack and when he expected pain to surge through his heart, it didn’t come. He was too focused on the childish men, he almost didn’t notice the other person get out of the car until she was right beside him. 

“You must be Derek. I’m Allison,” she said softly. “I’d offer to shake your hand, but this little one is needing both my arms nowadays.” She gestured down at the bundle of fabric pressing against her chest and Derek craned his neck to see under it. Dark brown eyes opened slowly, gazing up at him as a small mouth opened in a yawn. 

“She’s beautiful,” Derek said as he stroked a finger down her cheek. It had been a long while since he had been around children. He had a hard time remembering when Cora was born, but he still recalled how tiny she was in his arms and how easily she fell asleep in them. He felt a pang in his heart at the resemblance between Cora and the baby Allison was holding so tightly. 

“This is Melody. Scott’s convinced she’s a werewolf, but I’m not so sure yet. We’re not sure when we might find out as Scott was bitten and she was born, but we’ll love her either way,” Allison offered with a bright smile on her face. Derek saw the love in her eyes as she peered down at Melody and tilted his head. 

“May I?” Derek asked as he held his arms out. Allison glanced over at Scott and Stiles who were staring at the two of them intently. Derek felt a hint of embarrassment as Stiles watched him closely, a hesitant look on his face. Derek rolled his eyes and looked back at Allison. “I had a baby sister who was born a wolf,” Derek said without hesitation. Scott hurried over and took Melody from Allison’s arms, holding her at Derek as if he had the power to change their world. 

“Can you tell what she is?” Scott asked excitedly. Derek held her delicately in his arms and was extra careful to cradle her still bobbing head as he stared down at her. He grabbed her small hand and pressed it to his heart, smiling down at her shyly. 

“Have you flashed your eyes at her?” Derek asked as he glanced back up at Scott. Scott blushed and shook his head before Allison smacked the back of it. 

“Is that all he had to do? We could have known this entire time?” Allison asked in a shout. Stiles broke out into laughter as he walked beside Derek, throwing a casual arm around his waist, and reached over to rub a palm along Melody’s smooth head. 

“C’mon, Mel. I win the bet if you shine those beautiful werewolf eyes at us. You’d do that for your Uncle Stiles, right?” Stiles pleaded as he leaned in to brush his nose along Melody’s. She giggled and scrunched her face up causing Derek’s heart to pang once more. 

“You have a bet on whether the kid is a wolf or not?” Derek asked. He wanted to be surprised, but he had met both Scott and Stiles before so the idea wasn’t that out of the ordinary to him. Stiles shrugged at Derek and waved a hand at his face. 

“Do your… blue eyed thingy. I wanna know if my niece is gonna be stronger than me when she grows up,” Stiles said excitedly, staring intently down at Melody as Derek chuckled. He glanced back up at Allison, a silent question in his eyes as he waited for her to make the decision. If she wanted to know, he would tell her, but he knew this was a special moment and didn’t want to take it away from them. Allison nodded and wrapped her arms around Scott’s waist who looked like he might faint. 

“Ready, sweetie?” Derek cooed down at the child. Her hand was still pressed to his heart and Derek heard hers match his beat. He closed his eyes and willed them to change before opening them and gazing into Melody’s. Her smiling face went almost comically serious as she closed her own eyes in response. 

“What’s she doing?” Scott asked as he craned his neck to see her face. Derek turned with Stiles still pressed to his side so her parents had a better view. Melody opened her eyes slowly and their chocolate hue was now as golden as the sun. Derek smiled down at her before Scott raced over and pulled her from his arms. 

“I knew it!” Stiles cheered as he pulled away from Derek in favor of wrapping his arms around Allison’s waist and lifting her up. He pressed a messy kiss to her cheek before tossing his arm around Scott’s neck and watching Melody’s eyes. “Look at how beautiful they are. You never looked this adorable with gold eyes,” Stiles teased as he smacked Scott’s cheek gently. Scott didn’t seem to notice or care as he gazed down at his daughter and pulled his wife closer to him. 

“I can’t believe Scott didn’t think of that,” Derek said as Stiles walked back over to him, letting the family have their moment. Stiles threw his head back in laughter as he wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck. Derek held him back tightly and ran a hand under his shirt, stroking over his back softly as he stared over Stiles’ shoulder. 

“He may be an alpha, but he’s always learning. This is the first baby of the pack,” Stiles commented. He turned around and leaned against Derek’s chest, holding onto Derek’s arms that stayed wrapped around his waist. Derek leaned down and rested his chin on Stiles’ shoulder as they watched the family interact. 

Scott’s red alpha eyes were shining brightly at Melody who reached out to press a hand against his chest. Allison had tears in her eyes and her hand over her mouth like she was holding back whimpers. Derek thought it was a beautiful sight, one that was all too familiar. His mind flashed back to Cora again; the first time she shined her golden eyes up at their father, his mother pulling Derek and Laura in close to see their sister with eyes like theirs for the first time, the familiar sound of hearts beating in the same rhythm. It took everything in him not to feel sadness as he watched Scott and Allison gaze down at their child with such love and adoration. 

“We have some leftover pie inside and I’m sure Derek has enough food in the house for me to make us something special for breakfast,” Stiles started before turning his head toward Derek to ask permission. Derek was surprised that he wanted to say yes. He wanted them to come into his home so they could share this intimate moment together. It felt like pack in a way that Derek didn’t expect because he  _ wanted _ it. He decided not to think about it too much as he nodded and pressed his lips to Stiles’ cheek. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna go take a shower if you guys want to make yourselves...” He trailed off, hoping they understood what he was trying to say. Saying the words out loud would make the feeling too real and he wasn’t ready for that yet. “Come on in,” Derek said instead and Stiles smiled brightly and kissed Derek again before turning toward Scott and Allison. 

“I get to hold the baby!” Stiles said as he snatched her from their arms. Neither of them argued as they walked toward the house. Scott rested a hand against Derek’s shoulder before they could enter the house and Derek stopped to turn toward him. 

“Thank you, Derek. It’s, uh, nice. Having another alpha around,” Scott said. Derek went to correct him, but Scott just shook his head. “Eye color aside, you’re everything an alpha should be. So, accept the compliment and then go take a shower,” Scott said as he waved a hand in front of his nose. “Now that I know my daughter is a werewolf, I don’t need her smelling you all day. You both reek of sex,” he concluded. Derek blushed and made his way inside after Scott, sending one last smile at the group before turning to the stairs. Halfway up the staircase, he realized that he was giving his home and putting his trust in Stiles. He also realized that it didn’t feel nearly as scary as he thought it should have. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can't already tell, I love a good Derek & Scott friendship. Also, we've got a werewolf baby!! Was anyone guessing what she would be? If so, were you right?!
> 
> If you're not already following, I have a [Tumblr](https://sparkandwolf.tumblr.com) specifically for my Sterek obsession so feel free to follow it for updates and snippets and other Sterek content. I am always accepting prompts and questions, so please give me a shout!
> 
> Also, feel free to follow my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/thatnerdemilyj) and let me know what you think. 
> 
> Please, please, please let me know what you think of this in the comments and leave kudos if you enjoyed it! See you next week!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello fine people. I hope you enjoy some cute Scott & Allison & Stiles & Derek & Melody & Luke. This chapter was unexpected, but [Morgan](https://skylar102.tumblr.com/) is a wonderful beta who reassured me that I'm still a good writer even though my brain wants to make this story like 100k 😭

“You’re making yourself right at home I see,” Scott said accusatorily as he sat at the island next to Allison. Stiles rolled his eyes as he reached into the fridge to grab at the carton of eggs, the milk, a few already cut up vegetables, and cheese that Derek had stashed away. He sets the ingredients on the counter before placing a pan on the stovetop and letting it warm. He turned back toward Scott who had his eyebrows raised as he glanced around the living room. 

“Have you ever known me  _ not _ to make myself at home?” Stiles retorted as he cracked a few eggs in a bowl. If he was honest with himself, making himself at home at Scott’s or Lydia’s was a lot different than making himself at home at Derek’s. He was getting dangerously comfortable after an incredibly short amount of time, but Stiles wasn’t one to let good things get away from him. And Derek was a  _ great _ thing. 

“You just seem,” Allison started, gesturing vaguely at Stiles, “happy. Well, you always seem baseline happy, but you seem comfortable and content,” she noted, resting a sleeping Melody in her carrier. Stiles watched as Allison rocked her back and forth absentmindedly with her foot. 

“I wasn’t, not earlier this week,” Stiles admitted as he poured the first back of eggs into the pan. He avoided looking back at his two friends, knowing their worry would be evident on his face. “Something is going on in Beacon Hills, just like when we were kids, and now it’s my turn to protect everyone,” Stiles said. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Scott looking sternly at him. 

“It might be your turn, but we’ve shared everything since we were kids, Stiles. What’s going on?” Scott urged, squeezing Stiles’ shoulder softly. Stiles scrambled the eggs in the pan and slowly mixed in the vegetables and cheese before sighing heavily. 

“The girl who was killed at The Market?” 

Scott nodded and said, “Morgan, yeah. She, uh, offered to babysit for us a few times when we first moved back to Beacon Hills.” Allison nodded sadly, a warm smile on her face as she rested her head in her hands. 

“She was sweet but human. Scott made sure to sniff her out and I had never seen a girl blush so much,” Allison recalled and Scott threw his head back in laughter, running a hand through his shaggy hair. 

“I’m not gonna let just  _ anyone _ babysit our kid, Al,” Scott said with a whine. Allison rolled her eyes and looked pointedly at Stiles. He gaped in response and pressed a hand over his heart offendedly. 

“I am not just  _ anyone _ , Allison Argent. I am that little beta’s godfather and I should be treated as such!” Stiles said dramatically, holding the spatula up like he was about to bang a gavel. He slammed it onto the counter to punctuate his sentence and when he saw a damp Derek leaning into the wall next to the stairs, he blushed and looked down at the floor. The shyness did not go unnoticed by either of his friends, unfortunately. 

“I can’t believe Stiles has found someone to shut him up with just his presence alone. This is a momentous day, I should be getting pictures,” Scott rambled as he reached for his phone. Stiles smacked him with the spatula and Derek chuckled as he walked over. 

“You’re using that spatula on our breakfast,” Derek chastised. “Don’t hit the company with it. Werewolf does not taste nearly as good as whatever you’re cooking,” Derek noted as he leaned in to sniff the dish. There was something about Derek complimenting him that had Stiles blushing even deeper, much to Allison’s obvious enjoyment. She smiled brightly at them and snapped a picture before Stiles could stop her. 

“You guys are adorable, truly,” she teased as she put her phone back in her pocket. Stiles waved a hand at her but didn’t pull away from where he had instinctively pressed into Derek’s side. Melody awoke, mumbling something unintelligible in her sleep, and Stiles took the distraction to press a gentle kiss to Derek’s jaw. 

“You smell good,” Stiles commented. Derek laughed softly and brushed his nose down Stiles’ jaw before pressing it into his neck and breathing in deeply. Stiles was torn between the shiver that raced down his spine and the way Derek’s stubble tickled his skin. He pressed his hand to Derek’s chest and pushed, but Derek didn’t move an inch. He raised his eyebrows at Stiles before biting down playfully on his shoulder and tugging at the shirt Stiles had stolen from Derek’s drawer. 

“In front of the food?” Scott whined as he propped himself onto the island counter for a better reach of the toaster. Stiles tossed him the bag of bread and Scott caught it instinctively before placing a few pieces into the toaster. Stiles went back to scrambling the eggs, barely noticing the easy non-verbal communication between him and Scott. 

Allison must have noticed as she explained, “Yeah, they do that sometimes. You get used to it.” Stiles glanced at Allison who flicked her eyes at Derek with a shrug. He had his head tilted, a small look of what Stiles could only describe as jealousy on his face. “If it wasn’t for Scott’s inability to follow the rainbow, he and Stiles would’ve probably been married with an entire pack of pups under their roof by now.” Scott gaped at his wife, clearly offended by her words, but Allison just shrugged in return. 

“I have much better taste in men than Scott,” Stiles argued, looking Derek pointedly up and down. Derek seemed to flush under his gaze as he reached into the fridge to take out some lemonade. “I go for hard men with soft centers if you know what I mean.” Stiles wiggled his eyebrows at Allison who giggled in delight as Scott split a piece of toast in half and threw it at both of them. 

Derek cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow at Stiles before he said, “I guess it’s a good thing I go for soft men who are easily hard then, huh?” 

The only indication of the words being a joke was the corner of Derek’s lip lifting and the comment sent Scott into howling laughter. Allison’s cheeks were almost wet with tears as she wiped at her eyes and Stiles stood open-mouthed, unable to properly form words for a moment too long as Derek pushed a bite of egg into his mouth. 

“I think they’re done,” Derek commented like he didn’t just surprise the hell out of Stiles. Stiles could barely think, let alone focus on spreading the scrambled eggs on the plate Derek offered to him. He kept trying to think up some comeback, one that would get Derek good and he just  _ couldn’t. _ A few moments passed filled with Scott and Allison’s laughter and Stiles slammed the pan down on the stovetop. 

“Who are you and what have you done with  _ my _ Derek?” Stiles saw Derek freeze and he figured it was the possessiveness in Stiles’ voice that threw him. Stiles thought it was safe to say that Derek was his, but he could never be sure, at least, not with Derek. 

Derek seemed to jump back into reality as Scott and Allison stopped laughing and he let a soft smile cross his face. “Finish your eggs, Sheriff,” Derek said as he nudged his shoulder against Stiles. 

“Derek, why don’t you show Melody and I the view from the porch?” Allison asked as she stood up. She gripped Melody’s carrier in her hand and made her way toward the sliding door, waiting for Derek to follow. He sent Stiles a questioning glance and nodded as if he knew that Allison was giving Stiles time to talk with Scott alone. Derek pressed a kiss to Stiles’ temple, an unexpected form of intimacy that had Stiles blushing and Scott staring at the two smugly. As Allison and Derek left, Luke sniffing at the car seat curiously, Scott held out a few more plates for Stiles. 

“So, Morgan. What’s got you tied up about her?” Scott asked as he leaned against the counter. Stiles looked over at him and sighed, noticing the sympathetic look on Scott’s face. He shook his head slowly and rested his palms on the counter. He tried to pull his thoughts together so he could explain them better than he had to Derek the night before. 

“You sniffed her. You know that she was nothing but human. There’s no reason she should have--” Stiles couldn’t bring himself to say the words. He didn’t need the reminder that he couldn’t protect her, not again. 

Scott seemed to read his thoughts, something they had both gotten pretty good at over the years, and nudged his shoulder gently. “You know there was nothing you could do to save her or anything. We’ve had this happen before,” Scott reasoned and Stiles knew it was true. 

He thought back to all of the humans that were caught in the crossfire when Scott was bitten; his high school classmates, officers under his father that couldn’t understand exactly what they had signed up for when they received their Beacon Hills badge. It wasn’t something they could have known, not something Morgan probably knew, but it still caused a heart wrenching ache to course through Stiles. 

“I’ve heard that,” Stiles admitted, “from my father, from Erica, Lydia, even Derek.” An almost wet laugh escaped Stiles’ lips as he removed his hands from the counter, his knuckles still white from their grip. “I  _ know _ , Scotty. I just don’t like not knowing what killed her. Boyd is hitting a wall testing the ash from the bodies, Parrish is still not convinced it’s a rogue wolf and honestly, neither am I. We don’t have any leads  _ beside _ the ash that, hey, I can apparently manipulate?” Stiles said like it was an added bonus. Scott froze and narrowed his eyes at Stiles. 

“You can what now?” Scott asked, squeezing Stiles’ shoulder to stop him from walking away with the finished plates of food. 

“I don’t know… I had the bag in my hand and then  _ poof _ ,” Stiles exclaimed with a shrug of his shoulders, “it was out of the bag. It’s not that big of a deal. We know that I can sometimes do weird shit like that with no explanation,” Stiles said with yet another shrug. Scott didn’t seem convinced by Stiles’ nonchalance of the situation and reached for the plate of toast balance on Stiles’ forearm. 

“So, there’s a supernatural component to it,” Scott said with a nod. Stiles matched it and started walking toward the door. 

“There’s  _ something _ else. They’re testing it for everything, but so far, nothing has come back to give us any information to catch whoever did this to her.” Stiles had a fleeting thought of throwing down the plates and running back to the station, but he caught a glimpse of Derek, flashing his eyes at a now awake Melody and extending his fangs in what Stiles could only see as playfulness, and the idea was immediately thrown out of his mind. 

“You’ve got Erica, Boyd, and Parrish on it, Sheriff. You’re doing exactly what you should be doing.” Scott’s words were just as reassuring as Derek’s utter presence and it had Stiles heart skipping just a little in his chest. Almost as if Derek caught the flutter in his heart, he glanced over, fangs and glowing eyes in full force, and Stiles inhaled sharply enough for Scott to groan. 

“What?” Stiles asked as he nodded his head at the door, silently asking for Scott’s help in opening it. Scott complied, but not before tilting his head at Stiles. 

“I never thought you’d end up with a werewolf,” Scott commented. Stiles choked on the air he breathed in and widened his eyes at Scott. 

“I’m ending up nowhere besides Derek’s porch to stuff my face with this fantastic breakfast I made for all of us.” Scott rolled his eyes, but Stiles knew it wasn’t meant to be malicious. He couldn’t focus as the others sat around him, spooning food onto their plates, smiling, laughing, joking. It felt like he had his pack again. 

Stiles wasn’t a werewolf, obviously, but he had been a part of a pack since he was sixteen. The minute Scott became an alpha, the dynamics of their lives had changed. They had welcomed Allison and Lydia who were a packaged deal from the minute Allison moved to Beacon Hills, Jackson who Stiles begrudgingly started to care about, then Boyd and Erica who no one ever really expected. Kira and Parrish were misfits when they entered Beacon Hills so they had no choice but to accept her into their own little  _ Pack of Misfit Toys _ . 

Then Scott had moved away with Allison and Lydia traveled the world with Jackson until he found a place to settle down and she wasn’t ready to stop. Boyd, Erica, and Stiles stayed together for the most part throughout the Academy and Boyd’s increasingly surprising career in the lab. Kira and Parrish, for some reason that Stiles had yet to figure out, barely left Beacon Hills. Stiles knew he would always have the pack, but having them back together again reminded him of the closeness, the way they would all protect each other no matter the cost, and he hadn’t realized how much he missed it. 

When he looked at Derek, though, he knew that having them back wasn’t just what had changed. He liked Derek, which if Stiles was honest with himself might have been the understatement of the decade, and it may have only been a short time, but Stiles couldn’t imagine not having Derek to turn to. He didn’t want to picture not having him to wake up next to, to reassure him when he felt like he wasn’t the human he should be, to roll his eyes with such fondness in them that it had Stiles’ heart beat to bursting in his chest. 

The arm that wrapped around his neck, slowly and hesitantly, snapped Stiles back into the present as he turned to peer at Derek. “You looked lost for a minute there,” Derek commented, resting his forehead against Stiles’ temple. Stiles just shook his head because, no, he felt like he was finally found. 

* * *

Derek was surprised at how quickly the morning passed. He had almost forgotten about the mountain ash scare because he was too lost in conversation and laughter. It all felt so new to him. He had spent so many mornings eating breakfast alone in a motel room, listening to Luke wolf down his morning meal and settling into the silence that was only broken by the sounds of scattering footsteps and revving of engines. He couldn’t say he minded the back and forth banter between Stiles and his lifelong friend or the tiny noises Melody had started to make. 

It had him missing something that he never really had. His family was everything to him, he would never undervalue how important his blood pack was, but he never really had… friends. Sure, he went to normal schools with mundane classmates and attended parties at his mother’s request, but they were never more than a trick to appear normal.

_ “You have to start fitting in, Derek. Just because you’re a werewolf doesn’t mean you have to isolate yourself from those that don’t understand us. _ ” 

He never meant to isolate himself from humans. He figured he just cared too much for the other side of him, spending whatever time he had learning control, to hunt, how to lead as his father had led. He didn’t have much time for such trivial things like sleepovers and parties that he couldn’t enjoy as much as all of his underage and drunk cohorts. When his father died, he figured it was for the best that he  _ had _ spent so much time becoming the best alpha he could be. 

“Those dishes sure seem pretty interesting,” Stiles teased, sliding his arms around Derek’s waist and pressing himself up against his back. He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of Derek’s neck before resting his chin on Derek’s shoulder. Derek thought that Stiles could make any touch more intimate than it was meant to be. Derek finished scrubbing the final plate and placed it on the drying pad before turning to face Stiles. 

“They were telling me all about how great your meal was,” Derek responded, sliding his arms around Stiles’ neck. He was very aware of how lame that sounded, but it made Stiles laugh, which Derek thought he would never tire of hearing.

“I’m glad you liked it. Thanks for letting my friends totally overstay their welcome,” Stiles said softly, taking a small step forward and pressing his lips to Derek’s cheek. When he rested back on his heels, Derek leaned down to capture his lips in a slow and firm kiss. He had heard the slight hesitation in Stiles’ voice like Derek might not have been okay with Scott and Allison staying as long as they did. Derek was a bit surprised himself at just how okay with their presence he had been. 

“They really care about you,” Derek said instead, leaning back against the counter and pulling Stiles with him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this openly affectionate with someone, but it was Stiles and he couldn’t find it in himself to pull away. Stiles smiled softly and nodded his head, running his hands underneath Derek’s shirt to stroke at his back. 

“Over 30 years of friendship will do that, huh?” Stiles said with a tilt of his head like he was sorting through 30 years of memories. 

“He’s, uh, a good alpha?” It came out like a question, but Derek knew the answer. He wouldn’t admit it to Stiles, but he was listening to their conversation about the girl at the Market. Stiles talked about her like he had known her for just as long as he had known Scott and it had Derek’s heart hurting for him and wanting to do everything in his power to take Stiles’ mind off of it. 

“Considering he became an alpha before he was 18, I think he’s done pretty well.” Derek nodded along with Stiles when he felt Luke push his head in between the two. Derek was ready to ignore him, but he should have known Stiles’ attention would immediately gravitate toward the dog. “Hey, buddy. Are we leaving you out of our cuddles?” Stiles said in a voice that seemed very specifically for Luke. Derek rolled his eyes and rested a hand on Luke’s head and Stiles leaned down to cup his face in his hands. 

“I usually take him into town today. I do some grocery shopping while he gets all of the stares from the truck.” Stiles gasped and looked up at Derek. 

“Well, that won’t do.  _ You _ can do the shopping while Luke and I take a stroll through town. How does that sound?” Luke’s ears perked up at Stiles’ suggestion and he looked up at Derek in question. The pair of pleading eyes were enough for Derek to easily cave. 

“Alright, fine,” Derek begrudgingly agreed, reaching to shut off the light over the counter. “Woz?” Derek asked, raising his eyebrows at Luke. Luke bounded to the door, dancing on his front two paws and waiting expectantly for the two men to follow. Stiles stood up with a chuckle and started to walk away when Derek grabbed his wrist. 

“You promised the dog a ride in the car, Derek, you can’t back out no--” Derek crashed their lips together more roughly this time, something he had hesitated doing with Scott and Allison around. The kiss was claiming, Derek pressing his tongue insistently into Stiles’ mouth, his hands grabbing at Stiles’ waist to keep him close. He heard no complaint from Stiles as he bit down on Derek’s bottom lip, a soft whimper escaping when Derek growled low in his throat. When he pulled away, it was only because of the bark that resounded through the living space. 

“Give us a second,” Derek said breathlessly to Luke, his lips brushing against Stiles’ with every word. Stiles leaned into him, grasping at the material of his shirt as if it was the only thing holding him up, his breath panting out of him similar to how it had that morning when Stiles was desperate for him. Derek closed his eyes and placed a few gentle pecks, soft grazes of his lips, to Stiles’ as he slid a hand up Stiles’ chest and cupped his jaw. 

“What was that for? Not that I’m complaining,” Stiles added quickly as he gazed up at Derek with hooded eyes. Derek ran his thumb across Stiles’ cheek and shrugged, pushing his nose against Stiles’ before fully pulling away. 

“Out on the town means I won’t be able to do that for at least a few hours,” Derek justified with a small, almost embarrassed smile. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to being unable to kiss Stiles in the privacy of his home, that much was becoming increasingly clear. 

Stiles turned to Luke and glared as he yelled playfully, “See what you’ve done?!” Derek laughed and grabbed his keys and wallet from the counter before reaching for Stiles’ hand with the other. 

“I shop really quick,” Derek said as he opened the door. Luke raced to the truck, jumping up against the door before either of them could get there. He barked sharply, one that had Derek pulling Stiles back behind him. “Hold on,” Derek commanded, keeping his voice as steady as possible. 

“What’s going on?” Stiles asked, following Derek with each step forward. Derek figured Stiles wouldn’t listen to his demand but kept him behind with a hand over his chest as he peered into the window. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but the scent was off. Someone had been in his truck and, if he had to guess, it was whoever left the mountain ash behind in the woods. 

“Probably some kids or something,” Derek dismissed with a wave of his hand. He opened the door and Luke jumped in, sniffing every inch of the seats, his nose barely leaving the cloth. He glanced up at Derek and seemed to nod as he sat in the backseat and waited for the others to join. Stiles’ hand on his back had him jumping only slightly, but he reeled himself back in before turning toward him. 

“You wanna make a report?” Stiles said, a joking tone to his voice that had Derek chuckling. He shook his head and pushed Stiles toward the passenger’s side of the truck before glancing back over at the house. 

“I’m just gonna--” Stiles nodded in understanding and opened the door, sitting himself down before turning back toward Luke. Derek’s face fell the minute Stiles looked away and he let out a heavy breath as he jogged back to the house. 

He hadn’t been using the security cameras and it was a stupid mistake that Derek kicked himself for. As he entered the house, he looked around, perking his ears to ensure its emptiness and taking a deep breath when he confirmed it. He turned on the security system, pressing in the code to start the cameras before glancing at his computer to be sure they were on. Once he was satisfied, he shut the door and pulled out his keys to lock all of the extra safety measures. He rested a hand on the door, needing something solid to ground him when he heard Stiles yell from the truck. 

“Luke’s getting pretty antsy here and I’m ready to get out on the town! You coming?” Derek was grateful for Stiles’ voice as it was just what he needed to fully ground himself. He turned back to the truck and rolled his eyes dramatically before getting in and starting the engine. Stiles rolled down the windows and leaned back against the headrest with his eyes closed and it was exactly what Derek needed. Stiles’ energetic voice and comfortable nature pulled him back to where he had to be; in his truck with Luke’s head hanging happily out the back window and Stiles’ reassuring hand on his thigh and it was like nothing else really mattered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Till next week my beautiful people. And thank you for those who continue to comment and read along ♥️
> 
> If you're not already following, I have a [Tumblr](https://sparkandwolf.tumblr.com) specifically for my Sterek obsession so feel free to follow it for updates and snippets and other Sterek content. I am **always** accepting prompts and questions, so please give me a shout!
> 
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> 
> Please, please, please let me know what you think of this in the comments and leave kudos if you enjoyed it! See you next week!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week's [Morgan](https://skylar102.tumblr.com/) quote of the chapter: AHH MY HEART
> 
> Please enjoy!!

Derek spent the majority of his life in his truck. He used it to travel across the country to escape, to sleep when he had no more money for a bed, as a table when he just didn’t feel like sliding into a booth made for four all alone. He learned to both love and resent his truck. It had air conditioning that only sometimes worked, a tire that seemed to have a perpetual leak no matter how many times he changed it, and an empty passenger seat that reminded him just how much he wanted someone beside him. 

Stiles was singing loudly along with some horrible country song that Derek had never heard before. The lyrics were happy, chanting on about love and finding that special someone, and Derek glanced over at Stiles every few minutes to make sure he was still smiling to see he always was. Stiles’ hand only left his thigh to turn up the music or to reach back and give Luke a solid pat on the side as he let his head fall out the window. 

“There’s something about country music that just gets me in a good mood,” Stiles commented, tapping his feet to the beat of the music. Derek couldn’t help but smile, glancing over at Stiles before shaking his head and focusing back on the road. “What, you disagree?” Stiles said offendedly, removing his hand from Derek’s thigh to press it over his heart. Derek rolled his eyes and reached over to grab Stiles’ hand, placing it back down on his knee. Stiles smirked at him but squeezed his kneecap in response. 

Derek teased, “I just have a hard time believing that there’s anything that  _ doesn’t _ put you in a good mood.” His thumb traced soft patterns on the back of Stiles’ freckled hand and Derek thought that it wasn’t fair how someone so tough could have such delicate skin. 

“That’s because being with you automatically puts me in a good mood, so you haven’t seen otherwise,” Stiles retorted with a laugh. Derek figured he was joking and let out a huff of laughter and Stiles tilted his head at him. “You gotta start using your words, Der. I can’t always guess what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.” Stiles punctuated his point by threading his fingers through Derek’s hair and massaging his scalp gently. Derek tried not to preen into the touch, which was almost impossible considering how wonderful Stiles’ fingers felt. 

“My dad had a special cop power of always knowing what was going on inside my head,” Derek said, leaning back against Stiles’ hand just enough for Stiles’ fingers to scratch a little harder. Stiles hummed as if in thought and watched him closely. He changed the station, older music chiming through the speakers, soft and sultry. Stiles leaned back in his seat, his head falling back against the headrest, his eyes closing slowly. 

“Let me know when we’re in town, okay?” Stiles asked, smacking his lips together as his head rolled to the side to peer up at Derek. Derek nodded and Stiles’ hand fell to his shoulder, overcome with sleep. Derek listened to the rhythm of the music, the harmonized trumpets, the low husk of the female’s voice, and he felt content. 

The ambiance reminded him of being home. He pictured his mother dancing in the kitchen with Cora on her hip while Laura was at the table pretending to play music but really enjoying their mother’s choice of song. His dad would come home and put his badge and gun on the table and Derek would tease him about an alpha wearing a weapon. His father would flash his red eyes as a reminder of who ran the pack before kissing his wife on the cheek and Cora on the head. He would ruffle Laura’s hair and pat Derek firmly on the back. It was what home meant to Derek. 

His heart skipped as Stiles pulled his hand away to scratch at his nose, and still in sleep, it found its way back to Derek, the back of it resting on Derek’s thigh. Derek laced their fingers together, uncaring if both hands weren’t on the wheel, not when one had a better place to be. He pulled Stiles’ hand to his lips and kissed his fingers one by one, savoring the sleepy smile that spread across his lips. 

There was no part of Derek’s father that looked soft at first glance. He was a cop on the outside, a wolf on the inside, and the alpha of too many betas to count. Derek was one of the few people to know his gentle nature. He saw it in the way he wrapped his arms around Derek’s mother’s waist, in the way he cradled Cora’s head when she was too small to hold it up, and the way he pressed a hand to Derek’s shoulder in reassurance when he thought he couldn’t live up to his father’s name. 

Derek realized with a burst of his heart how easily he had been thinking about his family. It didn’t hurt as much anymore, not with Stiles’ fingers laced with his, and he resisted the urge to drive around forever if it meant the hurt in his heart would be gone for even just a moment. The sign for the Market blasted him out of his daydream and he exhaled heavily, catching Stiles’ attention. 

“How long was I out?” Stiles asked, pulling his hand out of Derek’s to wipe at his face. Derek smirked at him and pointed to the corner of his mouth where a small bit of drool escaped during Stiles’ sleep. Stiles rolled his eyes and pulled down the mirror, fixing his face before leaning toward Derek. “Replace it with your own?” Stiles said seductively. 

Derek laughed and after he parked, he cupped the back of Stiles’ neck to pull Stiles closer so he could connect their lips. Stiles seemed to relax into the kiss, his hand gripping at Derek’s thigh as Derek’s other hand moved to stroke across Stiles’ jaw. The angle was horrible and Derek could feel his back straining at its awkward twist, but it didn’t matter because he was kissing Stiles and nothing would get in the way of that. 

“Alright,” Stiles said breathlessly as he pulled away, his eyes still closed like he was holding in the feeling and Derek knew exactly what that felt like. “I promised Luke here that we would go on a town adventure while you are a good housewife and stock the practically empty cabinets in your house,” Stiles teased, slapping Derek’s cheek playfully before stepping out of the car. 

“I’ve been reduced to a housewife?” Derek asked as he grabbed the reusable bags from the back of the truck. He snapped on Luke’s leash and handed it over to Stiles with a playful smirk on his face. 

“House-husband?” Stiles joked, sending a dramatic wink in Derek’s direction. Derek thought the panic might have shone on his face, but Stiles laughed it off with a pat on Derek’s shoulder. “You’re great, I hope you know that,” Stiles said without further explanation and pressed a gentle kiss to Derek’s cheek before starting back toward the sidewalk. 

A car beep knocked Derek into a different panic and Derek watched as a black SUV slammed on its brakes. Stiles waved, clearly embarrassed, and shouted a quick apology to the driver. Derek rolled his eyes and tried to still his racing heart as the driver of the SUV glared over at him. Somehow, Derek was now, by association, responsible for Stiles’ actions but he couldn’t bring himself to be upset by it as he sauntered happily toward the store. 

The automatic doors opened and Derek was hit with a sense of familiarity that he had only had in a few places in his life. He wasn’t sure if it was Stiles’ newfound spot in his life or because Beacon Hills was the place he had stayed the longest in years, but he decided not to overthink it. He made his way over to the vegetables and a familiar, moppy head of hair peeked out from behind the strawberries. 

“Derek, hey!” Isaac said with a small smile on his face. Derek smiled back at him, something he had gotten used to doing around the people he could stand, and somehow, Isaac had become one of them. He hadn’t seen Isaac out on the floor before, mostly interacting with the boy when he cashed out at the end of his grocery run. 

“Isaac,” Derek responded, reaching for a tub of strawberries and a canister of whipped cream. He had never bought it before, but something told him Stiles would appreciate it. When he glanced up, Isaac was eying him suspiciously and Derek narrowed his eyes in response. 

A blush immediately spread across Isaac’s cheeks as he explained, “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen you buy sugar before.” Isaac shrugged before continuing to stock up the strawberries, ducking his head to try and hide the embarrassment Derek had already seen. Derek chuckled softly and reached for a carton of blueberries. 

“It’s not for me,” Derek commented, his own face heating at the fact he willingly divulged that information. Isaac peered back up and him and nodded, glancing back out to the parking lot. Derek turned and saw Stiles talking to a man, the owner of the SUV. Before he could panic again, the man patted Stiles on the shoulder as both of them laughed and waved as Stiles jogged away.  _ Leave it to Stiles to make friends with everyone in this town, _ Derek thought. 

“Stiles likes Cheetos,” Isaac offered, running his hand along the back of his neck shyly. Derek tilted his head at him, raising an eyebrow in question. “If you’re buying stuff that Stiles likes, he likes Cheetos. He comes in at least twice a week and gets Cheetos, an energy drink, and a healthy lunch that I’m not sure he eats. I think he does it because he used to make his dad eat heart-friendly meals all throughout high school,” Isaac said looking up at the ceiling in thought. A grumble escaped Derek’s mouth, an almost growl from low in his chest and Isaac’s eyes widened as he held up his hands in defense. “I didn’t--” 

“Sorry, I, uh, I don’t know why…” Derek trailed off and took a deep breath. “I didn’t realize you went to high school together,” Derek tried to act casual but a strange feeling of jealousy surged through him that he could barely hold back. Isaac nodded and shrugged, carefully avoiding Derek’s eyes. 

“Yeah, him and Scott, they, uh-- they helped me through a lot when I was a kid,” Isaac said as if it hurt him to remember. Derek nodded slowly and decided not to pry. He was never one for prying and he wasn’t about to start now, especially not with the person who usually bagged his groceries. 

“That’s, uh, nice. Of them, I mean.” Derek cleared his throat and without another word, starting to walk toward the vegetables. He shook his head at himself as he glanced back at Isaac but didn’t feel too bad for his inherent awkwardness as Isaac was smiling down at the rows of fruit in front of him. 

Derek shopped slower than was normal for him as he usually never deviated from his carefully planned list. Usually, Luke was in the car waiting for him and Derek used it as an excuse to avoid any extra human interaction that he never really desired. But Luke was with Stiles, enjoying a walk on the beautiful day they were having, and Derek didn’t have a list. Something about that caused his heart to beat a little faster in his chest. 

For years, he had a meticulous list on his phone; reminders of the brands of meat he enjoyed, the vegetables he could never have too many of, the snacks that weren’t too salty and desserts that weren’t too sweet. He was too enthralled in everything that was Stiles, he didn’t make a list. 

“You doing alright there, kid?” Derek turned quickly to see a man, only slightly older than him, eyeing his hands suspiciously. Derek hadn’t realized he’d popped a hole into the bag of Cheetos he had grabbed off the shelf, but it must have gained some unwanted attention. He glanced around at the wandering eyes surrounding him and noticed Isaac peering around the corner, an uncharacteristic grin on his lips. 

“Yeah, I’m-- I’m good,” Derek said as he grabbed the popped bag and another, undamaged one, and finished the rest of his shopping. He grabbed all the supplies for the eggplant parmesan recipe one of his restaurant clients had offered him after a sale, doubling it as he assumed Stiles would stay for dinner, and walked toward the front end hurriedly. 

“Find everything you need?” Isaac asked, the grin still evident on his face. Derek rolled his eyes, albeit more fondly than he thought was possible, and started emptying his basket on the belt. 

“And more,” Derek said dryly, punctuating his words by tossing the two bags of Cheetos on the counter. Isaac let out a laugh that seemed to shock the other cashier that Derek had never seen before. “New hire?” He said conversationally and instantly regretted his words when Isaac’s face dropped. 

“Yeah,” he said somberly, handing a few delicate groceries in Derek’s direction so he could easily bag them. They stood in silence for a little until another smile spread across Isaac’s lips. He reached around the counter and grabbed an energy drink from the fridge before handing it off to Derek without scanning it. Derek stared down at it, narrowing his eyes. 

“Is this a joke?” Derek asked, unsure why Isaac would give him a disgusting cotton candy energy drink for free considering Derek would just throw it in the nearest trash. 

Isaac beamed at him and crossed his arms over his chest before reasoning, “Stiles likes to have them for his Monday morning shift.” Derek thought it was pretty bold of Isaac to assume that Stiles would be with Derek on Monday morning, but he wasn’t about to correct what he wanted to be true. With a huff, Derek placed the drink in one of his bags and lined them on his arms to carry outside. He sent a polite nod to Isaac who waved, back to his shy nature, in return. 

Derek was expecting to see Stiles when he got back to the car, but he wasn’t anticipating him to be talking to Melissa. His first instinct was to freeze as he thought of excuse after excuse to just get in the car and drive away without interacting. He could tell them Luke needed to eat but that wouldn’t work because he wanted Stiles to come home with him, and if he did, he would realize that Luke’s dinner time was still a few hours away. Instead, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes before braving the small family again. 

“Derek! Stiles, help the man with the groceries. I know he’s big and strong but that doesn’t mean he should carry those bags alone!” Melissa chastised, grabbing Luke’s leash from Stiles and shoving at his shoulder. Stiles rolled his eyes but there was no heat in it as he jogged his way over to Derek. He reached for a few bags and Derek pulled them back, raising his eyebrows at Stiles. 

“I got them,” he argued. Stiles glared at him and gestured back toward Melissa. 

“You really think Melissa was asking me to help? That was ‘you go help or I’m not making any more pie’ voice. I’d recognize it anywhere.” Derek glanced over Stiles’ shoulder and caught Melissa’s eyes, the grin on her face letting him know that she definitely was thinking that. 

“Alright, but just a few,” Derek resigned - because he wasn’t sure if that threat of no pie included him or not - and sighed as Stiles leaned up to kiss his cheek. He looked back at Melissa with a new blush forming on his cheeks only to notice that she had company. A man close to her age was standing next to her, his arm wrapped around her shoulder, squeezing tightly as he kissed her cheek. More panic flooded through Derek as he realized there was a good chance that was Stiles’ father. 

“Daddio!” Stiles exclaimed, tossing the groceries haphazardly into the back seat before jogging over to his father and pulling him into a firm hug. It was the kind of hug that shook Derek to his core; the slapping of hands on backs, the tight closing of eyes like this could’ve been the last declaration of their familial love. It had Derek’s heart clenching in his chest. 

“Son, how’re you doin’?” The man asked, holding Stiles at his shoulders. Derek thought of young Stiles, a high schooler dealing with werewolves and trying to explain it away from the Sheriff of Beacon Hills - his father, no less - and at that moment Stiles looked smaller than he had remembered. 

“Better,” Stiles said simply, smiling at both his parents. Derek put the rest of the groceries in the car and walked over to the group, squatting down next to Luke to hold his face in his hands. 

“Hey, Bud,” Derek said like he was talking to another person and not his dog. He glanced up after a few moments of silence and furrowed his eyebrows at Stiles who was gazing down at him. “What?” Derek asked, standing up and pressing the heel of his hand to his shoulder. He noticed, for a brief moment, that it was the first time he had done it that day. 

Stiles laughed and slipped an arm around his waist, a kind of casual intimacy that made it hard to breathe, before gesturing toward his father. “Derek, this is Sheriff Stilinski the First. John to mostly everyone,” Stiles said, beaming at his father. John held out his hand and stared expectantly at Derek. 

“Sheriff to you, boy,” John said sternly. Stiles smacked his hand away before Derek could shake it and John gaped at him, clearly offended. “What the hell, Stiles!” He yelled, reaching the same hand out to smack the back of Stiles’ head. Stiles just rolled his eyes in return, leaning into Derek’s touch when his hand automatically moved to where Stiles was hit. Melissa smirked at them but Derek pretended not to notice. 

“You tell him he can call you John.” John opened his mouth to respond, but Stiles shot him a look that Derek thought would bring a confession out of a psychopath. “One, because you’re not the sheriff anymore, I am, and two,” Stiles turned his gaze to Derek who wasn’t quite sure what he did to deserve a look like that, “I know this one will call you Sheriff because he’s polite and respects me too much not to listen to my dad.” Derek had to agree with that. If John told Derek to call him Sheriff, that’s what he’d call him. They both turned to his father, Stiles with raised eyebrows like a challenge, and John sighed and held out his hand again. 

“John Stilinski,” he gruffed, earning an elbow to the side by Melissa, “the father of this little brat who has been able to talk himself out of literally everything since he was a child.” Stiles squeezed Derek’s waist, humming to himself, satisfied with his father’s introduction. 

“Dad, this is Derek, who I would really like to avoid scaring away. He was hard enough to impress in the first place,” Stiles teased, nudging his hip to Derek’s. Derek huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes. Stiles laughed in return and turned into Derek’s body, his chest pressing against Derek’s side. “What? You disagree?” Stiles challenged. Derek was stuck now. He could either admit that Stiles had him from the first moment he showed up at his doorstep or he could pretend that Stiles didn’t and get another glare from his father. 

Melissa seemed to sense Derek’s discomfort and decided to take pity on the poor man. “John, have you met Derek’s lovely pup? He’s a great guard dog and incredibly well behaved, aren’t you, Luke?” Melissa cooed down at Luke, placing gentle pats on his head. Luke seemed to grin up at them and John sighed audibly, tilting his head at Stiles. 

“Did you put her up to this?” He asked dejectedly. Stiles held up his hands in surrender and then pointed them down at Luke, smiling mischievously. 

“I did no such thing. I can see Luke at any time. Melissa on the other hand…” Stiles trailed off as Melissa sent John a pleading gaze. 

“What is happening?” Derek asked, clearly missing some sort of family drama. Stiles chuckled and pressed a hand to Derek’s chest, patting it gently. Derek instinctively covered Stiles’ hand with his and pulled Stiles closer by his waist. He wasn’t sure when he lost every semblance of personal space but he couldn’t care when Stiles’ laughter rumbled through his own body. 

“Mom’s been trying to convince the old man here to get them a dog ever since--” Stiles cut his sentence short, but the way his eyes darting to the front doors of the Market was enough for Derek to understand what he was trying to say. Melissa was scared of whatever had been happening in Beacon Hills and Derek couldn’t say he blamed her. Her son had been bitten by a werewolf when he was only in high school and he couldn’t even begin to understand what that must have been like for her. 

“You can borrow Luke,” Derek blurted out, unsure where the idea even came from. 

Melissa grinned over at him as if that was exactly what she was waiting for while John just tilted his head, squinting his eyes in a way that looked so very  _ Stiles. _ Stiles looked up at him in a way that could only be described as fond and Derek felt his face heat as his hand pressed his shoulder once more. Stiles caught it before it could fully ease his anxiety, but the way Stiles linked their fingers together did more than he could have ever hoped. It was all too normal, the way Stiles rested their laced hands on Derek’s waist, and Derek didn’t know what to think of it. 

“He does great with other people and I’m sure he’d like a night away from me every once in a while.” Stiles nodded enthusiastically in agreement, leaning forward to ruffle the fur on the back of Luke’s neck. 

“Think of it as a… trial run. Luke can be your test puppy for the one Melissa inevitably convinces you to adopt,” Stiles joked as he patted his dad on the shoulder. “Why doesn’t Derek bring him by next weekend?” Derek glanced at Stiles’, opening his mouth to argue and then realizing that it was his idea in the first place. 

“Derek,” John said. Derek thought there would be a question to follow but apparently, John wanted him to read his mind, and Derek was surprised when he did. 

“Next weekend, as long as Melissa makes me another pie,” Derek bargained with a soft smile in her direction. Melissa cupped Derek’s cheek in her hand delicately before leaning down to press a kiss to Luke’s head. 

“Hear that, big guy, you’re gonna stay with me next weekend. Are you excited? Yeah? Are you?” At Melissa’s energetic tone, Luke seemed to dance on his front paws, glancing between each person that made up the small group. Derek took a few steps back and opened the car door, urging Luke to jump in with the simple command. Melissa let go of his leash and he listened easily, leaning his head out the window when Derek shut the door behind him. He sniffed at Derek’s hand as he brushed it down his nose, giving him the hand signal to stay. 

“See how well behaved a dog can be if you just train him right, Dad?” Stiles said, baring his teeth at his father, a smile that Derek thought must have gotten him out of trouble back when he was a kid. It looked almost comical on his now scruff-filled face but Derek still found himself wishing that he had known Stiles back then, back when he had less responsibility and Derek wasn’t as broken. He shook his head and walked back toward Stiles, holding a hand out to John again. 

“It was really great to meet you. I have a lot of respect for what you and Stiles seem to have done for this town,” Derek said truthfully. John eyed him for a moment before tilting his head. 

“Cop family?” John asked and Stiles rolled his eyes with a scoff. 

“There’s no way you figured that out with one sentence. You’re not  _ that _ good of a cop,” Stiles grumbled. Derek chuckled as John took his hand and nodded before answering his question. 

“Yes, sir. And Stiles seems to make a great one,” Derek said, peering over at Stiles and studying his face for a moment. 

From what Derek could tell, Stiles was quite possibly the best kind of person a town could have to protect them. He cared about every soul he ever met and even those he hadn’t yet had the pleasure of knowing, more than Derek thought was possible. He cared about the job in a way Derek had only seen from his father. He watched as Stiles bantered with his father and smiled softly at Melissa and realized that family was just as important to Stiles as it had been to Derek when he had one. He respected the badge, he understood the pack dynamics that make things tricky, he was… 

Fuck, Derek might be in love with him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're not already following, I have a [Tumblr](https://sparkandwolf.tumblr.com) specifically for my Sterek obsession so feel free to follow it for updates and snippets and other Sterek content. I am always accepting prompts and questions, so please give me a shout!
> 
> Also, feel free to follow my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/thatnerdemilyj) and let me know what you think. 
> 
> Please, please, please let me know what you think of this in the comments and leave kudos if you enjoyed it! See you next week!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to take a weekend to myself so sorry for the delayed chapter. But this one is particularly smutty and brings Stiles and Derek closer together, I think. 
> 
> Thanks to [Morgan](https://skylar102.tumblr.com/) for being the fantastic beta she is.

Stiles didn’t realize that Derek was exactly what he had needed. He had spent the entire week feeling like something was missing, a feeling he had never had before, and he fixated. He hadn’t done that since he was a kid. It was how he figured out Scott was a werewolf, how he realized the true colors of mostly everyone that tried to enter their inner circle, how he fought off the ancient and evil spirit inside of him. Fixating helped his mind focus on the important things and saved their lives more times than he could count. 

Morgan was no different. He felt a responsibility when he was younger for Scott, for their pack, for himself, that followed him into his position as sheriff. It was his job to protect everyone in town the way he fought alongside his tight-knit group and he took that responsibility very seriously. When Morgan died because of his mistake, he focused on what he could have done to save her. He spent hours and hours hyper-focused on something he could never change when he should have been relaxing his mind with Derek. 

And he had never felt more relaxed than when he was with Derek. He didn’t have to pretend with Derek; didn’t have to be the funny one, the responsible one, the one with all the answers and for the first time in a very long while, Stiles felt like he could just be Stiles, and he hadn’t really realized how much that meant to him. 

“When we get back to your place, can we take Luke on a walk?” Stiles asked, sending his best pleading expression toward Derek whose eyes were focused on the road in front of them. Derek peered at Stiles from the corner of his eyes and rolled them as impressively as he always did. 

“You just took him on a walk,” Derek argued. There was no heat behind it, Stiles could tell by the small smirk on Derek’s lips, but he still huffed in response as he turned toward Luke. The dog had his head fully out the window, ears and tongue flapping wildly in the wind, and Stiles had never seen an animal look so joyful. 

“That was a town walk where he was restricted by stupid leash laws and couldn’t  _ really _ stretch his long limbs,” Stiles countered, crossing his arms in front of his chest when he turned back. Derek raised his eyebrows at Stiles and chuckled softly. 

“‘Stupid leash laws,’ says the sheriff,” Derek mocked as he pulled into his driveway. Stiles rolled his eyes right back and stopped Derek before he could open his door.

“I want to go to that spot again. For the sunset this time,” Stiles asked, his voice a bit more pathetic than he intended it to be. Derek’s face sharpened and before Stiles could apologize for whatever he had said to upset Derek, he leaned over and captured Stiles’ lips in his own. 

“Inside,” Derek commanded so roughly, Stiles almost thought it was meant for Luke until Derek’s hand was pushing open the passenger side door. Stiles peered into Derek’s eyes and when he saw them flicker - primal was the first word that struck Stiles’ mind - he practically fell out of the car in his haste to follow Derek’s order. 

“Derek, what--” He had reached the top of the steps and turned to wait for Derek, only to be pressed beside the door, Derek’s scent overwhelming his senses. Stiles wasn’t about to complain about the intrusion as Derek pinned his wrists beside his head, his hard body rolling slowly against Stiles’ as he panted into the kiss. Stiles’ heart sped up with every rut and every messy swipe of Derek’s tongue before his teeth clamped down on Stiles’ bottom lip just a breath away from pain. 

Stiles tried his hardest to keep up with the swift movement of Derek’s hips while attempting to breathe when he got the chance. Any attempt was lost as Derek moved Stiles’ wrists above his head, gripping them tightly in his large hand and using the other to make hasty work of Stiles’ jeans. Stiles craned his neck when he heard Luke pawing at the door beside him and choked out Derek’s name to try and gather his attention again. 

“We should-- Inside-- Derek!” Stiles gasped out with every flick of Derek’s fingers as his button popped off and his zipper was torn down the teeth. “As much as I  _ love _ whatever has come over you, I don’t want to give the woodland creatures a show,” Stiles muttered, finally breaking free of Derek’s grasp to thread a hand through the hair at the back of Derek’s head. 

That seemed to snap Derek back into reality, his blue eyes fading back to their beautiful green color, as he sputtered, “I-- I don’t know what--” 

Stiles surged forward and connected their lips again when he sensed the panic rising in Derek. He didn’t want Derek to think he wasn’t enjoying their impromptu makeout session and the only way he could think to convince him was by more kissing. Stiles never wanted them to  _ stop _ kissing. He maneuvered them enough to push Derek against the door, reaching for the handle as best he could while attempting to nip at Derek’s top lip. Derek held his waist firmly, nails digging into Stiles’ scorched skin underneath his shirt, and when Stiles tried to turn the handle, the door refused to budge. 

Stiles pulled away and rested his forehead on Derek’s shoulder, breathing heavily as he groaned, “If you were ever looking for a downside to the frankly unnecessary amount of locks on your door…” Stiles trailed off and pressed his palm against the wood to try and balance himself. Derek turned quickly and fished the keys from his pocket, unlocking each lock like molasses. From his position behind Derek, Stiles toyed with the neckline of Derek’s shirt, pulling it down just enough to place gentle kisses and nibbles along his back and shoulder. Stiles stared at the marks he was leaving and wished they would stay longer than a few seconds.

“Stiles, please,” Derek begged - although to stop or keep going, Stiles wasn’t sure - as his hands shook with his attempts to put the key in the final lock. Stiles bit down on his shoulder, rougher than he intended, and was rewarded by a low rumble that shook Stiles to his core. The door flew open, both of them tumbling in but somehow still managing to stay on their feet with what Stiles thought was their sheer force of will. Before he had time to think, Derek shoved him back against the table beside the door. 

“Fuck, Derek, easy,” Stiles laughed, craning his neck to capture Derek’s lips again. Derek grunted in response and slid his hands down the back of Stiles’ thighs, lifting him onto the table and pushing until his back hit the wall. Derek slotted himself in between Stiles’ legs and dragged his teeth from underneath Stiles’ ear to his collarbone, lapping at the skin there delicately. It shot a chill through Stiles as he wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist in a desperate attempt to connect their groins again. 

“Bed, I-- Bed,” Derek decided with a determined nod of his head. Stiles went to argue - a litany of now, now,  _ now _ echoing in his mind - but Derek had already picked him up and turned them so smoothly, Stiles was struck speechless. Derek moved them easily as if Stiles was light as a feather and he stomped up the stairs as quickly as he could. Stiles tugged at Derek’s neckline as if his lips couldn’t stand to be away from Derek’s skin for even a moment and he left more marks to replace the ones that had already disappeared. 

“How many stairs does this house have?” Stiles groaned, needing more contact with Derek as soon as humanly - werewolfly? - possible. 

“I’m carrying 180 pounds up them, give me a break,” Derek huffed as he finally reached the top. Stiles laughed into his neck, pressing a softer kiss there as Derek shuffled them the rest of the way to the bedroom. He tossed Stiles none too gently onto the bed with a smug smirk on his lips. 

“I didn’t  _ ask _ you to carry me,” Stiles countered, pushing himself back against the pillows, his eyes raking over Derek with an unparalleled hunger he was sure was blatantly obvious in his eyes. Derek looked right back - just  _ looked _ \- and it made Stiles’ skin tingle in a way he didn’t think he would ever grow used to. Derek kneeled onto the edge of the bed and crawled up to Stiles slowly like a predator stalking its prey. Stiles dropped his knees to the side and grabbed onto the shirt at Derek’s shoulders to pull him the rest of the way. 

“Off,” Derek breathed, leaning back on his heels to balance himself as he held his arms above his head. Stiles pulled the shirt off of Derek as quickly as he could, taking in every inch of newly exposed skin with awe. He wondered if he would ever be able to catch his breath when he had Derek like that; unconcealed and vulnerable and one of the most  _ beautiful _ things he would possibly ever see. 

“God, Der, you look--” Stiles could practically feel Derek’s skin heating up at the possibility of a compliment - Stiles made a mental note that they would have to work on that - and was instantly distracted when Derek’s lips connected with his again. They seemed to float down his neck and chest until they landed on the small exposed space between his shirt and pants. Derek looked up at him expectantly and Stiles' heart soared. He loved that Derek always asked permission and loved knowing that if Stiles didn’t want him to continue, he would stop. It was small, but it meant everything. 

Stiles nodded and held his hands up, letting Derek take the control that Stiles thought he needed. He could see the struggle in the way Derek’s eyes flashed from blue to his natural earthy tone. The minute Stiles’ shirt was tugged over his head and promptly discarded to the floor, Derek’s mouth attached to every inch of Stiles’ newly exposed heated skin. His lips followed the small trail of hair down Stiles’ chest, his tongue circling one nipple before his mouth covered it fully, and the feeling of Derek’s mouth was all too much for Stiles. He threaded his fingers through Derek’s hair, his body squirming against the mattress at each purposeful press of Derek’s lips. 

When his mouth disappeared, Stiles whined, his eyes shooting open to peer down at Derek. Derek’s eyes were flickering faster in a way that had Stiles’ cock throbbing in his jeans and he realized that he loved that side of Derek; the primitive part of him that seemed uncontrollable with just one look at Stiles. Derek may have thought Stiles had the power, but as Stiles lay spread out on the bed, Derek looking up at him like he was everything, Stiles knew it wasn’t true. 

All Stiles could do was nod furiously, his mouth hanging open as Derek’s nails pressed into his thighs, a silent question Stiles was eager to answer. Derek mouthed at the outline of Stiles’ erection slowly and sloppily as his fingers dipped into the waistband of Stiles’ boxer. Stiles wasn’t sure how he had gotten them undone so fast, but all of a sudden, Derek took Stiles’ cock into his mouth and all coherent thoughts disappeared from Stiles’ mind. 

All of the moments before when they’d succumbed to the heat and attraction, it had been messy and instinctual and over far too quick. Derek was taking his time, his tongue memorizing the tip of Stiles’ cock, circling slowly and pausing whenever Stiles would buck his hips. It was like he was in tune with every single breath Stiles held, every tingle of his skin, every burst of pleasure that raced through him as Derek’s lips slid over his length. 

The only sounds to be heard were Stiles’ breathy moans and the slick noises of Derek’s mouth taking Stiles further and further into his mouth. Stiles tried to stay still, let Derek commit every taste and smell radiating off of Stiles to his memory like he seemed to want. He tried to stay quiet, tossing his arm over his face and biting down on his skin to contain the moans and gasps of pleasure that threatened to escape. Derek whined and when Stiles opened his eyes to check on him, he gripped Stiles’ hand to move it away from his face as if he wanted to hear every sound he was enticing from Stiles. 

Stiles had known that Derek looked incredible like that as he’d witnessed the sight before, but when his eyes connected with Derek’s, Stiles was sure he lost himself. He threw his head back and let out a guttural moan that seemed to echo through the room as he felt the heat building inside of him. When Derek pulled away with his own groan, Stiles threaded his hand through his hair and tugged, his eyes squeezing shut at the loss of contact. He was so close and his hips bucked, searching for any friction he could find. When he finally brought himself to glance down, Derek was watching him with such longing in his eyes, lightning erupted through Stiles’ spine. 

“Can I-- I want you to-- Just, stay right there,” Derek said, his soft voice a contradiction to the way his body stiffened as he reached into the side table. Stiles bit down on his lip as Derek pulled out a small bottle of lube and held it in his hand like he wasn’t quite sure what to do next. Stiles was about to reach for it and open himself up to let Derek fuck him in whatever way he wanted, but his mouth dropped open in astonishment when instead, Derek popped the cap and poured a small amount onto his fingers. With careful focus and determination, he pressed his two digits inside of himself, a low growl rumbling from his chest. 

“Oh, god, Der,” Stiles whispered as he wrapped his arms around Derek’s waist, awestruck and trying with everything in him to not come at the simple sight of Derek working himself open. Derek leaned forward to nestle his nose into Stiles’ neck and bit down on the racing pulse there, sucking to the rhythm of every pump of his fingers. His hot breath ghosted over Stiles’ skin as he panted and moaned ever so lightly and Stiles shook his head to knock himself back into reality. He grabbed Derek’s hand away abruptly and Derek seemed to choke at the loss of pleasure. 

“Stiles, what--?” Derek looked up at Stiles like he was ready to be rejected, ready to roll off of Stiles and disappear and Stiles had so many questions about the reaction, but all of them could wait. He slid his hand along Derek’s ass slowly before replacing Derek’s fingers with his own, gasping as he pushed back into them. He hid his face in Stiles’ neck almost as if he was ashamed of the noises he wanted to make or the desperation he had suddenly felt but his hardening cock brushed against Stiles’ stomach and he had no doubt Derek felt good. 

Stiles could barely think, thoughts of Derek’s perfection the only ones relevant in his mind. Sure, he had flaws, but none of them mattered to Stiles at that moment. Derek moaned lowly, practically purring into Stiles’ skin as he worked three fingers inside of him, hoping he would have the chance to show Derek just how beautiful he was like that. 

In a flash, Derek moved his head up to rest their foreheads together and placed a messy, frenzied kiss to Stiles’ lips as he pleaded, “I need you in me, Stiles. Please!” Stiles noticed through his blissful haze that Derek’s eyes were fully blue now, neon in the dim light of the sun barely peeking through the shade, and Stiles could only nod enthusiastically as he removed his fingers. Before Stiles could even prepare himself, Derek reached back just enough to hold himself up and lowered himself onto Stiles’ cock. 

The moan that left Stiles’ lips should have been embarrassing, should have been smothered in the pillow beside him or into Derek’s scorched skin, but he was inside Derek and it was as if he had never felt real pleasure before. Derek tossed his head back and low growls and whines escaped from his lips as Stiles drove into him. His trembling hands rested on Stiles’ chest and Stiles instinctively rested one hand over them, the other sliding between Derek’s shoulder blades to grip the back of his neck. He pulled Derek’s head down, wanting his lips on Derek’s more than he needed to breathe at that moment. He needed Derek to feel just how incredible Stiles thought he was and he pushed all of the emotion he could muster into the kiss. 

It was uncoordinated and clumsy, a stark contrast from the movements of their hips as Stiles thrust into Derek slowly and deeply. Derek took him in so easily as if he was made for Stiles’ cock and Stiles thought he might have been. They bit each other’s lips to bruising, their tongues tasting every inch of the other’s mouth as Stiles’ hands scratched down Derek’s sides until he could grip his cock. He could feel the dampness of Derek’s arousal dripping down his length, feel the heat radiating off of his skin as he pumped his hand in time with every thrust. 

“Derek, I’m gonna-- I have to--” Derek nodded, their noses brushing and their lips separating for only a moment until they reappeared on Stiles’ neck. 

“I’m going to bite you,” Derek said firmly. Stiles knew it was a question even if it wasn’t phrased that way. He had heard of werewolves need to claim, to mark the person they loved, and his heart soared at the thought that Derek might love him back. 

“Please, Derek! Please,” Stiles begged, his thrusts sloppier with every second as he threaded his fingers through Derek’s hair. He felt Derek’s teeth, blunt and human, brush against the pulse of his neck and that alone was enough to throw him over the edge. He froze inside of Derek, his cock pulsing and his body stiffening as the warmth of his orgasm flooded through him. The heat was replaced with pleasure just on the edge of pain as Derek’s teeth sunk into his neck, claiming him as he met his own release. 

Derek’s moan was muffled into Stiles’ skin as his come spurted onto their stomachs, Derek’s hips thrusting wildly as if fighting between the feeling of Stiles’ hand and his cock buried deep inside of him. His body melted into Stiles’ touch when he finally removed his hands from his spent length in order to press his palms flat to Derek’s back and pull him down so they were chest to chest. Stiles had never felt so content and so  _ happy _ to be almost suffocated by the beautiful man on top of him. 

Derek whispered almost silent curses as his tongue lapped slowly at the mark on Stiles’ neck as if to ease the pain. He knew it would hurt tomorrow, a most likely barely coverable bruise that was sure to gather some looks, but Stiles couldn’t bring himself to care. He had never felt so connected to another person, so absolutely infatuated and, and-- 

“You okay?” Derek asked, his voice light and full of worry as he craned his neck to peer into Stiles’ eyes. Stiles nodded and ran his clean hand through Derek’s hair before smiling softly down at him. Derek looked comfortable as he closed his eyes and leaned into every brush of Stiles’ fingers through his hair. 

“So,” Stiles began after a few moments of silence, “what was that?” Derek’s eyes shot open, a sheepish look on his face that he tried to hide by nuzzling his nose against the bite on Stiles’ neck. Stiles tugged Derek’s hair as a soft chuckle escaped his lips. “Oh, no you don’t. You practically attacked me outside and you’re gonna explain why,” Stiles urged, pressing a solid kiss on Derek’s lips. Derek tried to deepen it, but Stiles turned his head causing a pitiful whine to leave Derek’s mouth.

“It was nothing. I just-- You looked really… good?” Stiles raised his eyebrows at Derek, not believing for a single second that was an honest answer. 

Stiles saw the hesitation in Derek’s eyes and sighed before pressing his lips to Derek’s cheek. “I don’t like secrets, Derek, and I feel like there’s something you’re keeping from me,” Stiles said, his lips brushing Derek’s skin with every word. He could feel the panic rising in Derek so Stiles shook his head to try and quell his anxiety. “I’m going to trust you. That’s what I like to do, trust people I-- I care about,” Stiles trailed off, momentarily thrown into his own disbelief at what he almost admitted. If he was honest with himself, he had been thinking about it throughout the entire day, but he didn’t want to think about it more. 

Stiles stayed silent since he could practically hear the internal argument Derek was having with himself and didn’t want to scare him off. He was too comfortable with Derek’s weight on top of him and the way Derek’s fingers traced lazy patterns onto Stiles’ arms. 

“There, uh, was mountain ash outside this morning,” Derek said quickly as if blurting it out was the only way he would be able to tell Stiles the truth. Surprise flooded through Stiles because he hadn’t honestly thought that Derek was going to say anything, let alone something that scared the hell out of Stiles. He attempted to move, to push Derek off of him, ready to launch himself down the stairs with his gun drawn and at the ready to protect Derek with everything he had. 

“Where? Was it in a circle? How did you get out? Why would someone want to--” Derek cut him off with a gentle hand on his face, cupping his jaw in his hand until Stiles finally leveled their gazes. “Why are you so calm about this?” That question came out without Stiles being able to stop it. Derek wasn’t quite smiling, but the nervous frown wasn’t present on his face like Stiles had expected. 

“Stiles, please,” Derek said, his voice uncharacteristically soft, a contradiction to the anger and frustration flowing through Stiles’ body. 

“Please what, Derek? There was mountain ash in a werewolf’s  _ backyard _ ! In  _ your _ backyard and what? You expect me to be calm about it?” Stiles yelled. He could hear the panic in his own voice as his eyes darted back and forth between Derek and the bedroom door, wondering if Derek’s reflexes might be dimmed enough by the afterglow of sex that he could make it outside before the werewolf could stop him. He wanted to see the ash, to collect it and make sure it had nothing to do with the bodies. 

He needed to know if Derek was somehow involved and if he had to fear for the life of the person he was plummeting headfirst into love with. 

“Can you at least lower your voice? You’re scaring Luke.” It was a low blow and Stiles figured that was why Derek had said it. He glanced over at Luke who had snuck into the bedroom at the commotion. He was watching the two of them with his big, curious eyes, and Stiles sighed heavily. 

“You’re using the dog against me, huh?” Stiles accused as he held his hand out and beckoned Luke over. Luke leaned into his touch and propped his two feet on the edge of the bed as if asking to join them. Stiles shook his head sadly and Derek muttered a gentle command that caused Luke to rest his head on the covers and avoid eye contact with them. Stiles couldn’t help but smile at the humanlike reaction of the dog. “You two are a horribly adorable team,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes before peering back at Derek. 

“It could be nothing, Stiles,” Derek began, his voice halting at the subtle raise of eyebrow Stiles sent him. Stiles wasn’t stupid; he knew that mixing mountain ash with werewolves was never nothing and wasn’t about to let Derek get away with nonchalance over the topic. Derek pressed his hand to his shoulder but Stiles grabbed it before it could press too hard. He pulled the hand to his lips, covering Derek’s palm in gentle kisses before pulling him closer to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

Looking up at Derek through his eyelashes, Stiles requested, “Truth.” Derek furrowed his eyebrows like he was deep in thought and Stiles could sense he was going to try and push it aside again. “As much as you can tell me, want to tell me,” he reassured, tugging at Derek’s hair so he would look back at him. Derek nodded and smoothed a hand down Stiles’ side, squeezing as if to make Stiles wasn’t going anywhere. Stiles thought it was ridiculous Derek hadn’t realized he might never leave. 

“I’ve had run-ins with hunters before. It’s--” Derek breathed in deeply before continuing, “It’s why I’ve spent so much time on the road. There’s next to no way they could have found me here, which is why I think it’s probably just some kids fucking with the new Beacon Hills resident, okay, Sheriff?” Stiles didn’t like hearing his title from Derek’s mouth like that but brushed it aside at the pained look on Derek’s face. Stiles nodded slowly and started to pull away, but Derek’s hand stiffened on his hip.

“You didn’t answer my questions,” Stiles pressed only slightly, knowing that one wrong sentence could have Derek running and he wanted to avoid that at all costs. 

“It was just a line and Luke caught it before I did. He’s trained for that. I ran back here the second I realized you were alone in the house,” Derek said. Stiles recalled Derek’s look of panic from the morning and sighed, closing his eyes. He should’ve pushed further, should’ve known something was wrong. Derek seemed to sense his guilt and smoothed a hand over his back softly. 

“I shouldn’t have just brushed you off this morning,” Stiles said, tilting his head to rest his forehead against Derek’s. Derek shook his head as he stroked his hands up Stiles’ sides, resting his palm over Stiles’ heartbeat. The feeling was entirely too comforting.

“I needed you to,” Derek admitted, placing a light kiss to Stiles’ lips, both of them savoring it before pulling away. “I will try to be honest with you, Stiles. It’s-- I haven’t had to be accountable to anyone in a long time. This is… new.” Stiles nodded in understanding, his face softening as he gazed into Derek’s eyes. 

“It’s new for me, too.” 

And that was a pure truth. Stiles had never felt so exposed - so ready to be hurt - and even though everything inside of him screamed at him to get far away from the blue-eyed werewolf that would inevitably break his heart or his trust, Stiles couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t care that Derek was broken, that he had the hardest time admitting his vulnerabilities to Stiles even when Stiles pushed him. He couldn’t see his life without Derek anymore; without his muffled laughter and bright smiles, without his adorable, intimidating, beautiful dog that seemed to fit perfectly with his owner. 

“C’mon,” Derek urged, as he started to pull away. Stiles whined playfully and held Derek tighter, not willing to let him go just yet. “We need showers. Then I’ll make dinner while you relax and maybe we can take Luke on that sunset walk you asked for. As long as I can bring my camera,” Derek added, cocking an eyebrow as if there was a possibility Stiles would say no to him. Stiles smiled brightly and pecked his cheek, before pushing himself out of the bed and sauntering over to the bathroom, an extra swing in his step. 

“Photograph me like one of your French girls, Der,” Stiles teased. He laughed all the way to the shower with a grinning Derek chasing after him. Yeah, he couldn’t imagine a life without  _ that _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stiles immediately assuming the worst, of course. What do you guys think? Do you think the mountain ash is related to Stiles' case? Let me know if anyone has any ideas of where this is going as I'd love to hear them!
> 
> If you're not already following, I have a [Tumblr](https://sparkandwolf.tumblr.com) specifically for my Sterek obsession so feel free to follow it for updates and snippets and other Sterek content. I am **always** accepting prompts and questions, so please give me a shout!
> 
> Also, feel free to follow my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/thatnerdemilyj) and let me know what you think. 
> 
> Please, please, please let me know what you think of this in the comments and leave kudos if you enjoyed it! See you next week!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little bonding between our two favorite disasters. Thank you [Morgan](https://skylar102.tumblr.com/) for being truly wonderful, as always.

“Are you going to make me eat healthy every time I stay over?” Stiles asked, running his fingers through his dampened hair. Derek rolled his eyes as he took the eggplant out of the fridge and tossed it between his hands. “Is that an eggplant or are you just happy to see me?” Stiles teased, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as Derek tried his hardest not to laugh. Stiles seemed to notice him holding back and walked over to him, nudging their hips together to move Derek away from the counter. 

“I thought I was making  _ you _ dinner,” Derek argued as Stiles started cutting up the eggplant in perfect slices as Derek watched. He remembered from the many times Stiles had touched him that his hands were calloused, a working man’s hands by any stretch of the description, but they looked so graceful guiding the knife expertly through the fruit. He hummed to himself before resting a hand on Stiles’ arm to urge him to stop. 

“We can cook dinner together, Der. It’s not that big of a deal,” Stiles commented with a bit of laughter in his voice. Derek shook his head and walked over to where he kept his camera. He took off the lens and replaced it with another that would work better with the vision Stiles created before motioning for Stiles to continue chopping. Stiles turned to him and placed his hands on his waist, the knife dangerously close to the shirt he had borrowed from Derek’s closet. 

“Just keep cutting,” Derek said, taking a few photos of Stiles’ heavy grip on the knife as he faced him. Stiles went to argue but Derek leveled him with an eyebrow raise that seemed to change Stiles’ mind. “These will sell with restaurants, cookbook publishers, maybe even some of the high-quality food blogs that buy from me,” Derek commented, mostly to himself as Stiles finished slicing the eggplant. He ran the knife over the towel on the counter beside the fruit to clean it off before glancing over at Derek. 

“Is that how you make money? Taking random photographs and selling them to random people?” Derek chuckled and walked over to Stiles with his camera held up high. 

“Can you-- Wait, here,” Derek directed as another idea flashed in his mind. He placed Stiles’ palm flat next to the cut up pieces, fingers splayed out on the granite countertop and the knife perfectly framing the line between the eggplant and his hand. Stiles’ pale skin matched the white of the fruit, the seeds a replica of Stiles’ moles that were scattered perfectly around his hand. Derek took as many pictures as he could, forgetting for a moment that his subject was a real human who needed to move until Stiles’ fingers twitched barely noticeably. 

“This is gonna be a regular occurrence, huh?” Stiles asked, though not unkindly, as he shook out and stretched his hand. He reached for the salt to shake it onto the eggplant and Derek continued taking photos, mesmerized by the way Stiles’ fingers flowed so purposefully and gently with every move. When he patted down the eggplant slices and set them to rest, he turned toward Derek with a small smile on his face. 

“It’s not often that I have a human subject,” Derek said shyly, resting his camera on a clean part of the countertop before leaning back against it. There was a small part of him that realized suddenly how comfortable he had gotten with Stiles. He wasn’t embarrassed to share his photography and even when he felt a little anxious, his hands stayed put at his sides rather than reaching up to push the sensitive spot in his shoulder. He decided to hold onto the feeling as Stiles stepped over to him and held up his hands as if he was modeling them. 

“Especially a human subject with pretty hands like me, right?” Stiles teased with another suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows as he cupped Derek’s face in his hands. Derek shook his head and tilted it just enough to press his lips gently to Stiles’ palm. 

“You’re practically Vanna White,” Derek noted as he nuzzled his stubbled cheek into Stiles’ hand. Stiles pulled back, a look of surprise flashing across his face. 

“He makes jokes, he knows pop culture references, what’s next?” Stiles grabbed the camera from beside Derek before skipping to the living room, clicking buttons wildly in a way that had Derek wincing. Stiles pulled the camera away when Derek reached for it, pouting dramatically as he pressed his other hand to Derek’s chest to hold him back. “Nuh-uh, Der. You deserve to be in front of the camera every now and then, I think. With that smolder and those perfectly sculpted eyebrows and those abs that were probably constructed by God himself.” Stiles punctuated his words with a click of the camera aimed at Derek’s face. Derek figured he was probably blushing, unused to attention being so solely on him, but he thought he might have to get used to it being with Stiles. The thought didn’t scare him too much. 

“I am behind the lens because I prefer it that way,” Derek said as he tried for the camera again. Stiles pulled it back and pursed his lips as if asking for a kiss and Derek resisted the urge to call him out for his immaturity. He crossed his arms over his chest, cocking an eyebrow at Stiles in challenge, instead. 

“You’re really not going to kiss me? It’s such a small price to pay for this camera you seem to love so much,” Stiles rebutted as he tried to take a step back. What he hadn’t realized was that Luke was waiting behind him. Derek had seen his sly movement as he seemed to sense Derek’s want for whatever was in Stiles’ hand. Almost as if they had rehearsed it, Stiles stumbled over the unexpected blockade with a shout. Derek grabbed the camera strap to pull him back up and pressed a chaste kiss on his lips before unwrapping it from his neck, a smug smile on his face. 

“Dobry, Luke, you’re such a good boy!” Derek said as overenthusiastically as he could. Luke danced in response, bowing on his front two paws like he was ready to play. Stiles glared at the duo but there was no heat in it so Derek wasn’t too worried. “I’m going to finish the eggplant while you try not to break anything, alright, Sheriff?” Derek teased, giving Luke one final pat on the head before turning back to the kitchen, carefully placing his camera on a clean spot of the counter. 

Stiles scoffed and said, “I guess third in line to you and a camera isn’t a bad place to be in Derek Hale’s life, huh?” Derek looked over as Stiles squatted to Luke’s level and ran a gentle hand over his face, scratching in the spot behind his ears that Luke always leaned into. Stiles stayed silent as he rested his head on Luke’s, his eyes blinking shut as if he was trying to push something to the back of his mind. Derek recognized the struggle all too well. 

“You’re still thinking about Morgan?” Derek guessed, tilting his head at Stiles. Stiles sighed heavily and nodded as he leaned his head back against the couch. 

“I can’t stop thinking about how much Melissa wants a dog,” Stiles admitted. Derek sent him a questioning look that must have looked funny as Stiles huffed out a laugh and pressed his palm to Luke’s chest. “This has been the longest Beacon Hills has gone without a lingering supernatural villain and everyone’s tensions are rising, but knowing Melissa is scared?” Stiles shook his head and continued, “She had to go through so much when Scott became a werewolf, living in constant fear of losing him to this life. I knew she always cared about my dad more than she led on, too.” Stiles seemed to laugh at a memory and Derek smiled in return. 

“You guys weren’t always one big happy family?” Derek asked because after seeing them together, it was pretty hard to believe. 

“Melissa pretended she wasn’t into my dad for the longest time, but we all knew they’d end up together,” Stiles said, but then his face turned serious. “She would always talk about waiting for his phone calls during his shift that would remind her that he was okay and now she has to worry about me? It doesn’t seem fair.” Stiles’ words were quick and Derek could hear his heartbeat growing more rapid with each word. 

“ _ Melissa _ walked to the front door of a strange werewolf’s home in the middle of the woods and offered him pie without knowing anything about him. I have a feeling that she is entirely capable of taking care of herself and knows  _ exactly _ what she has signed up for.” Derek tried to ease Stiles’ worries with a joke because Stiles seemed to like his newfound humor so much. He slid the finished dinner dish into the oven and moved over to Stiles, not before grabbing for his camera again. Apparently, Stiles wasn’t expecting the joke as he broke out in laughter, his heart slowing with each large inhale he took to catch his breath. 

“She did, didn’t she? I still can’t believe she butted into my business like that,” Stiles commented but at Derek’s eyebrow raise, he ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. “Okay, I guess you’re right. It’s just-- My mom died when I was young and sometimes it’s hard to remember having one who wasn’t weak and fragile like she was.” Derek nodded in understanding, fiddling with the buttons on his camera until he found the perfect setting to capture the way the soft light of the room bounced off of Stiles’ skin.

He waited until Stiles looked back up to him before he snapped a picture of his bright eyes. “Mom’s are the toughest species on the planet and we both know just how many really exist. Melissa is scared but is she more scared than you? Your dad? Me?” Derek asked, pointing the camera down at Luke to capture the look of absolute love he was sending Stiles. Stiles hummed and stared at Derek, his smile widening with every snap of the camera. “What?”

“What could you possibly be scared of?” Stiles asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Derek took a small step back and focused on the way Stiles’ muscles bulged out of his shirt. He thought of what a stark contrast Stiles’ gentle nature was to his brute strength but pushed it aside as he considered Stiles’ question. 

“No one is fearless, Stiles,” Derek responded, letting his camera hand drop to his side. “Not when they have people to care about.” Stiles seemed to reflect on Derek’s words longer than Derek was comfortable with and his gaze was like fire when he glanced back into Derek’s eyes. 

“And do you?” Stiles asked. Derek tilted his head even though he knew exactly what Stiles had meant. “Do you have people to care about?” Derek smiled shyly and leaned over to press a gentle kiss to Stiles’ lips. 

“I’m starting to.” Stiles seemed satisfied enough with his answer as he started wandering around the room, humming quietly to himself. Derek held up the camera to play with the settings again as he followed Stiles’ through the lens. He was so distracted by the way Stiles moved, he didn’t realize exactly what Stiles was rummaging through until he was frowning down at his hands. Panic struck through Derek when he noticed what it was. 

“Was this your dad’s?” Stiles asked softly, swiping his thumb over the thin layer of dust that had most likely gathered there. Derek hadn’t touched his father’s badge since he moved into the house, hadn’t even thought of it much until he told Stiles about that small aspect of his life. His hand instinctively pressed into his shoulder and it took only one sharp glance from Stiles to have it settling back by his side. He inhaled deeply before walking over to where Stiles was standing so he could peer at the sentimental object in his hand. 

“Where I grew up, they gave the eldest child of fallen officers their badge. Laura, my older sister, she, uh, didn’t really want it, so…” Derek felt like he said too much. Stiles didn’t know he had an older sister, that much was clear by the small flicker of surprise that flashed on his face at the mention of Laura. Derek silently patted himself on the back for opening up a little bit more. 

“I would have gotten my dads,” Stiles said solemnly, holding the badge up to his chest. “I dealt with werewolves ever since I was sixteen but nothing scared me more than the thought of one of his deputies pulling up to the house to hand me this, Derek, I--” Derek shook his head and pulled the badge from Stiles’ hands. It had been too long since he remembered his family and he figured thinking about them with Stiles wouldn’t be that bad. 

“It wasn’t my worst fear,” Derek admitted, pulling Stiles over to the couch and sitting down beside him. He looked up at the ceiling as Luke’s head rested on his thigh; his dog always knew when Derek needed him even when he didn’t. “I grew up in one of the most powerful werewolf packs in New York and like I said before, my dad being a cop had nothing to do with his death. I feared the day my dad didn’t come home because I knew it would be hunters and I knew that I would have to protect my family…”  _ Which I couldn’t even do _ , Derek thought, squeezing his father’s badge until the sharp corners dug into his skin painfully. 

For once, Stiles didn’t seem to notice Derek’s own pain and it was so out of character, Derek froze as Stiles spoke. “Did you ever consider it? Following in your father’s footsteps and being a lowly public servant like myself?” Stiles was aiming for a joke - Derek had long since figured out Stiles hid behind his humor - but the words were sharp enough that Derek didn’t laugh. 

“I was never meant to be an enforcer,” Derek began, resting a soft hand on Stiles’ thigh to ground himself enough to continue. “Not a cop or an alpha.” Derek was surprised he didn’t stutter at the words as Stiles’ hand instinctively reached for Derek’s, gripping tight as if it was the only thing to keep his hands from trembling. Derek wasn’t sure when the shift happened; how Stiles went from teasing him relentlessly to needing Derek to take care of him. 

“My dad didn’t want me to take his place. You should have seen him when I told him I was going to the Academy,” Stiles laughed, shaking his head as his leg bounced against the floor. Derek squeezed his thigh reassuringly to urge him to calm down. “He didn’t want me to have to deal with everything he dealt with as Beacon Hills Sheriff but--” Stiles waved his other hand haphazardly but Derek wasn’t going to let him brush it off. 

“You wanted to be the sheriff that bad?” Derek asked, reaching for his camera that he had rested on the couch when he sat. It was a comfort to him, to have it in his hands, and even though Stiles was the one bearing his soul, Derek still felt vulnerable. 

“I did. I was already half the part, protecting the townspeople of Beacon Hills with my pack, so I figured, why not make a career of it?” Derek was going to comment but Stiles beat him to it. “Plus, I knew I’d look hot in a uniform,” he teased, leaning back on the couch and resting his legs over Derek’s lap. Derek pulled his camera out of the way just in time and rolled his eyes consideringly. 

“You do look pretty great in it, Sheriff. There’s something about a man in uniform, right?” Derek said. He inhaled deeply as he prepared to divulge even more of his past to Stiles. “My, uh, mom used to always talk about how much she loved my dad in his uniform. As a kid, I thought it was gross, but when I think back on it now, it just makes sense.” Stiles rested his hands behind his head like he was awaiting a story and Derek had to hand it to him; he was much more likely to share when Stiles didn’t ask. “As I said, my family consisted of the most powerful alphas in the state. They were one of the only werewolf packs with two alphas to lead and most were intimidated with just one look from my parents.” Derek punctuated his point by flashing his blue eyes at Stiles who rolled his own in return. 

“The eyes are by far the coolest feature to werewolves. That and the ripped muscles and ability to bite my throat out before I can even flinch,” Stiles said, smirking over at Derek. It was annoying how easily Stiles could fluster him. He didn’t focus on it, opting instead to keep talking as he wasn’t sure how much longer he would have the nerve. 

“I never saw him that way. He was just the guy who tucked us into bed, who held my sister when she started having nightmares, who taught me how to take care of my family. He had this persona to everyone else as this big, tough Captain of the law, but I knew better than that. He was…” Derek trailed off as he thought of his family and for the second time since he had met Stiles, it didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would so he continued, “kind. He had this big heart for his family, his friends, his pack. He knew how to be serious when he needed to, but he was the life of the party out of uniform. He--” Stiles was smiling at him and Derek realized exactly why it was so easy to talk to Stiles about it. 

“Sounds familiar.” Apparently, Stiles made the connection even quicker than Derek had. Of course, Stiles was exactly like the other most important person in Derek’s life and he knew he had made the connection before, but it felt even stronger now that he knew Stiles better. 

Derek couldn’t stop the laughter that fell from his lips as he agreed, “Yeah, familiar is one word for it.” The timer sounded through the room and Derek removed Stiles’ feet from his lap delicately, snapping one more picture of him at home on Derek’s couch before walking to the kitchen. “Would you ever let me--” Derek opened the oven and took out the dish, placing it on the stovetop to cool as he regretted even starting the question. Stiles perked up from the couch, his chin resting on his arms on the back of the couch as he furrowed his eyebrows at Derek. 

“You must know by now that I’d let you do almost anything to me, Der,” Stiles teased. Even though the joking tone was obvious, there was such honesty in the sentence, Derek thought his heart might beat out of his chest. He glanced over to Stiles’ work bag that hadn’t made it up the stairs yet and shrugged as he leaned on the countertop, his camera still ready to be used. 

“Would you ever let me take some photos of you? In your uniform?” Stiles gaped at him and raised his eyebrows in surprise. 

“Why?” Stiles said after a moment of consideration. Derek looked up as he thought, pursing his lips together when he heard Stiles get up from his comfortable position on the couch. “Is this some kinky foreplay I should know about?” Derek rolled his eyes as Stiles walked over to him and turned so they were face to face. 

“No, Stiles, contrary to your belief, there are a lot of things I like about you that don’t involve sex,” Derek retorted. The words seemed to surprise Stiles and Derek loved the pink that formed on his cheeks a little more than he should have. “The uniform stands for toughness and enforcement and an overall hardness, right?” Stiles nodded slowly and rested his hands on Derek’s chest as he took a step closer. “I would love to take pictures of you in that uniform, but doing normal things?” 

Stiles huffed out a laugh and smiled up at Derek before he asked, “Normal things like?” Derek motioned around the kitchen, glancing in every direction as his mind burst with ideas. 

“Making dinner, petting Luke, drinking a glass of lemonade on the porch, curled up on the couch with a book,” Derek rattled off, reaching for his camera instinctively as his excitement grew. He didn’t truly realize how little of his passion he had let himself enjoy since he moved to Beacon Hills and the ideas that were stuck in the back of his mind seemed to surge to the forefront. He loved photography and was passionate about it before, but having a subject as beautiful as Stiles changed things for what Derek thought was the better. Derek snapped a photo of Stiles as his eyes grew softer and he stared up at Derek like he was something special. 

“Yeah, I’d-- I think I’d like that,” Stiles said softly before pushing Derek’s camera hand aside. “We should eat first and then you can do whatever you want with me,” Stiles said, wiggling his eyebrows as suggestively as Derek thought he could. Derek had to kiss him again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're not already following, I have a [Tumblr](https://sparkandwolf.tumblr.com) specifically for my Sterek obsession so feel free to follow it for updates and snippets and other Sterek content. I am **always** accepting prompts and questions, so please give me a shout!
> 
> Also, feel free to follow my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/thatnerdemilyj) and let me know what you think. 
> 
> Please, please, please let me know what you think of this in the comments and leave kudos if you enjoyed it! See you next week!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really needed an excuse for them to fall more in love with each other and this was it. I hope you all enjoy a little bit of our boys opening up to each other <3
> 
> As always, [Morgan](https://skylar102.tumblr.com/) is my queen of queens and I love her a lot for being my beta for this.

Stiles was grateful that dinner went by quickly with no conversations revolving around Morgan. Anyone else he had talked to that week had been, frankly, depressing and Stiles needed a break. Derek was the most welcome distraction. He was sure he spent a majority of dinner doing everything in his power to have Derek smiling, laughing, blushing, flustering him the best he could because he was so pretty when he did all of those things. Stiles wasn’t sure how he had gotten that lucky; how he was the one who Derek decided to let in after what Stiles could only assume was years of pushing people away, but he wasn’t about to complain about it. 

He glanced at himself in the mirror and was all too aware of the way his uniform seemed just a little too baggy against him and how his muscles could look a little better than they were, but for the first time in a long while, he didn’t really care. Derek obviously had his fair share of not letting anyone in but Stiles wasn’t exactly rounding up partners as of late. He knew he had grown into his looks, but he couldn't quite understand why Derek was so adamant to photograph him. If Derek thought he looked good, though, who was Stiles to question it?

Derek had instructed him to put on his button-up shirt with the department logo pressed into the chest but leave it unbuttoned and to put on his perfectly pressed pants but leave the utility belt off. It was a strange request, but he figured Derek was the expert here and Stiles did tell him he would do whatever Derek asked him to. He ran a damp hand through his hair to fix the mess it always became after a long day and sighed before opening the door. 

“If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to,” Derek said immediately as he exited. Stiles had forgotten how nosy werewolves were and reminded himself to buy Derek some of those noise-canceling headphones he bought Scott when they roomed together for a hot minute after Scott finished college. 

“Privacy is really important to most humans, Derek,” Stiles chastised, crossing his arms over his chest. Derek went to retort but stopped as his eyes trailed down Stiles’ body as if he was taking in the sixth wonder of the world. Stiles felt his skin flush at the sheer intensity of the look and rolled his eyes playfully. “You’ve seen me in my uniform before,” Stiles commented, risking a few steps forward. 

Derek nodded slowly before holding his camera up to his eyes and snapping a few test photos. “I’ve seen you during your workday in your uniform. It’s a bit… different, seeing you in my house with it,” Derek said almost embarrassingly. Stiles remembered how much Derek seemed to respect his father and figured that the casual way Stiles’ uniform hung from his torso had something to do with it. 

“Where do you want me?” Stiles asked, holding his arms out to the side as if he was giving himself up to Derek. He watched as Derek’s throat bobbed and he nodded over toward the chair in the living room that didn’t look like it had gotten much use as of late. Stiles sat down stiffly and let his arms rest over the sides, leaning back as he took another deep breath. He heard the click of the camera and shot Derek a glare. 

“It’s just a test shot,” Derek explained, walking over to the lamp and turning the switch twice. It flickered on but Stiles couldn’t tell if it made a difference in the already lit room. “There’s a lot of light coming in from the back door. This will even it out so half your face isn’t shadowed.” Stiles nodded and glanced around nervously as his fingers tapped against the leather of the chair. He had barely noticed the sound until his eyes met Derek’s that held a gleam of interest. 

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” Stiles admitted, running the back of his hand over his forehead that was quickly gathering sweat. Derek chuckled and moved forward, leaning to press his lips to Stiles’ temple before backing away enough to take another photo. Stiles was ready that time, sticking his tongue out at the camera and crossing his eyes in what he knew was the most unattractive face he had ever given Derek. 

“Some people have this weird thing about getting their picture taken,” Derek said, shrugging his shoulders as he aimed the camera at one of Stiles’ hands that had stopped fiddling, opting instead to grip the arm of the chair uncomfortably tight. “Why do you think I stick with dogs and food and landscapes?” Stiles huffed out a laugh at that and smiled at Derek. 

“You just strike me as such a people person, it’s hard to imagine you as anything but,” he teased. He felt his shoulders relaxing more with each smile Derek sent in his direction. “So, Mr. Professional Photographer, what did you have in mind for me today? I’m wearing clothes so I guess no boudoir photoshoot,” Stiles said, snapping his fingers as he pouted at Derek. The unimpressed look Derek shot him back had him grinning widely. 

“First, I want you to relax,” Derek commented, gesturing toward the way Stiles sat a little stiffer than usual in the chair. Stiles relaxed only a fraction and sent a pleading glance up at Derek. He laughed softly in response and whistled, an unspoken call to Luke who came bounding over to sit between Stiles’ knees. 

“Dobry!” Stiles cheered, ruffling the fur in between Luke’s shoulder blades softly. Luke turned his head to try and lick Stiles’ arm and it was like all the tension flowed right out of him. “What do you want me to do?” Stiles asked after a few seconds of rubbing Luke’s flank as he stared up at his owner. When Stiles followed his eye line, he saw Derek taking pictures already. 

“Don’t tense up again. It’s just a camera, Stiles. I’ve taken pictures of you before,” Derek challenged, shaking his head. Stiles glared at him and hid his face in Luke’s fur as Derek snapped more photos. 

“This feels very official, though,” Stiles whined, peeking up at Derek with one eye to see him looking down fondly. He wasn’t sure what Derek saw in him or why he was so anxious about a few simple photos, but something about the way Derek was looking at him eased his jumbled stomach. When Derek caught him looking, he brought his camera back to his eye and took a picture before Stiles could hide again. “Can’t you just stick to taking pictures of my hands or other body parts that are a lot more interesting than my face?” Stiles smirked up at Derek and wiggled his eyebrows at the insinuation. Derek rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers, pointing Luke to sit beside Stiles’ legs. 

“No, I will not be taking any of the pictures you speak of,” Derek said sternly before he added, “tonight.” Stiles choked on his outtake of air as Derek pushed him to lean against the back of the chair again. “Turn your head toward the TV and rest your hand on Luke’s head,” Derek instructed softly. Stiles followed his direction and Derek whispered, “Perfect.” They were silent for a few moments and Stiles started to turn his head back toward Derek to see what he was up to but was promptly scolded to stay still. He glanced around what he could see beside him, peering around the wide expanse of the open layout. 

“I see why Scott wants to work on this place so bad,” Stiles said conversationally because the silence was doing nothing to calm him. He heard the camera stop clicking and looked at Derek the best he could without moving his head back. Derek was glaring and pursing his lips like he was offended and Stiles let out a loud laugh. “It’s a beautiful place, Der, that’s not what I meant,” Stiles retracted as he pushed down the little bit of hopefulness that swelled up inside of him at how much this house meant to Derek. To Stiles, it meant he might stay, but he couldn’t bring himself to focus on that.

“What did you mean then? And look the other way,” Derek instructed and Stiles complied easily as he took in the staircase and weirdly placed closet covered by one of Derek’s bookshelves. 

“Scott would look at a place like this and want to keep its classic structure and floor plan but make it something more livable,” Stiles said, closing his eyes. 

“It’s plenty livable,” Derek retorted with a scoff. 

Stiles rolled his eyes before he opened them again and explained, “It’s passable at best, Der, and you know it. He’s gonna make this place something incredible. A place you’ll want to stay for a long time, I hope…” He stared at a nail protruding from the wall in order to try and calm his heart at the admission. He knew Derek would hear it anyway but it didn’t hurt to try. 

“It’s not about the house, Stiles,” Derek said softly as the camera stopped shuttering again. Stiles nodded and moved his head back to face Derek who seemed to be pondering what to say next. “What are some of your favorite things you like to do?” Derek asked, effectively changing the subject just as Stiles thought he was getting somewhere. Stiles smirked up at Derek anyway until he pulled his eyes away from the lens and rolled them exaggeratedly. “When you’re alone at your house--” Before Stiles could make another innuendo, Derek leveled him with his infamous eyebrow raise and Stiles snapped his mouth shut, holding back his laughter. When he didn’t finish his sentence, Stiles leaned his elbows on his knees and pouted at Derek. 

“I’m done. Professional model territory reached. Carry on.” Derek sighed and ran a hand through Stiles’ hair as he stepped just a bit closer. Stiles wasn’t sure when neither of them had wanted space between them but he was glad the feeling was seemingly mutual. 

“When you’re alone, what do you like to do? You’re not sheriff all the time, right?” Stiles shook his head and considered the question. He honestly wasn’t sure what he did outside of being sheriff and he realized that probably wasn’t really a good thing. The last few years were a whirlwind of taking over his father’s position and coping with the pack being spread out through California, and he hadn’t really taken much time to do the things that he enjoyed. He thought about it, a little too hard probably, and Derek stayed silent as he pondered. 

“You can’t make fun of me,” Stiles said seriously, squinting his eyes at Derek as he studied his face. Derek cocked an eyebrow and nodded slowly, balancing his camera against his shoulder. “I mean it, Derek, this is-- This is a sacred secret from high school Stiles that has barely left Scott and I’s pact as brothers.” 

Derek rolled his eyes and stuck out his other hand, holding out his pinky. “Sacred secret, got it.” Stiles gaped at his outstretched hand and huffed out a laugh before twisting their pinkies together. 

“I collected comic books,” Stiles said slowly. It wasn’t something he was embarrassed about, really. Well, it was something he used to be embarrassed about when he was trying to woo a popular girl like Lydia or an attractive man like Danny, but now it seemed juvenile. 

“Collected?” Derek asked, nodding as he brought the camera up to his eye. When Stiles tilted his head in confusion, Derek waved his hand as if encouraging him to keep talking. Stiles leaned back in the chair, his damp palms pressing against his thighs in hesitation. He couldn’t say why he was so nervous but it might have been with the small smile he could see peeking out from behind the camera. “How did you start?” Derek asked, snapping a few photos as Stiles reminisced. 

“My mom,” Stiles said, feeling his shoulders relax at the mention of her, “Claudia, was her name. She spent a lot of time at the hospital when I was a kid before she…” Stiles trailed off and the snapping of the lens stopped until Stiles nodded as he glanced back up at Derek. He could say he didn’t understand people all he wanted, but he had learned how to read Stiles like a book. “My ADHD controlled me when I was younger; I couldn’t sit still ever and I was always reaching for something I shouldn’t have been reaching for. My mom couldn’t leave the hospital so she asked a nurse, my  _ favorite _ nurse, to bring in a few of her son's comics.” Stiles smiled and looked away from Derek, the memory of a comic book in his hand so vivid he could almost smell the sterile but stuffiness in the air of his mom’s hospital room. 

“What was the comic she chose?” Derek asked again as he walked over to a bookshelf Stiles had focused on a few moments prior. He waited for a beat and when Derek didn’t come back, he sighed and relaxed just a little. 

“X-Men: Excalibur. I wanted to be Nightcrawler for Halloween like three years in a row,” Stiles remembered, laughing as he thought of the homemade costume his dad had tried so hard to make the year his mom had died. It was horrible, the seams all off, the mask entirely too big for Stiles’ small face, but he wore it for a week straight, only taking it off for school because Scott was jealous he didn’t have a cool costume to wear, too. Stiles was popped from his memory as something light fell into his lap. 

“I’ve only got DC, but it's not that important, right?” Stiles’ jaw dropped open as his eyes darted from the comic book in his lap to Derek behind the camera again, his mouth open and closing as he tried to figure out what to say. Stiles could tell he was holding back his laughter and quickly turned his gape into a glare. 

“Not important? Not  _ important _ ?” Stiles yelled, holding open the comic on his lap. “There is so much to unpack with what just happened here. One, you own a,” Stiles peered at the cover, “ _ Superman _ \- of course out of all superheroes you own a Superman comic book. Derek, why do you own a comic book?” Derek just shrugged, a smirk on his face as he snapped each moment of Stiles’ freakout. “And two, are you really willing to start a debate on Marvel versus DC with me right now because I may never leave your house if you wanna get into this,” Stiles threatened. Derek shrugged his shoulders again and brought the camera down so Stiles could see the amusement in his eyes. 

“Is that supposed to get me to change the subject?” Derek responded with a raise of his eyebrow. Stiles blushed at that and decided to do anything but look at Derek as he flipped through the pages of the comic. “You don’t see the appeal of Superman?” Derek asked. Stiles didn’t look up at him but he heard the click of the camera anyway. 

“I do. More than the normal comic book geek, I think.” The sound of the camera stopped and Stiles chanced a glance up at Derek who seemed to be patiently waiting for an explanation. “Clark Kent wanted to be normal. He didn’t necessarily mind being involved in a world that no one else really understood, but he wanted that sense of normalcy that only comes from a regular job and a regular girlfriend and a regular family.” Derek nodded like he understood and went back to taking pictures as Stiles found a page with a brightly colored photo of Clark peering over the city. 

Clark didn’t have his glasses on, but he was in his usual suit and tie. He was looking out at the city, only a small flash of blue under the collar of his shirt was enough to give away that he was anything but a journalist, and as much as Stiles would fight for the superiority of Marvel comics until the day he died, Superman was the one comic book character he could relate to the most. Especially seeing him like he was portrayed on the page - stuck somewhere between hero and ordinary, not quite sure where he fit in. 

“Laura always liked Superman,” Derek said softly. His face was behind the camera, but he wasn’t taking pictures when Stiles glanced back up at him. “She would fight tooth and nail with anyone who said Batman was the better of the two and I’m not exaggerating about the tooth and nail thing.” Stiles laughed at the frightened look in Derek’s eyes and tilted his head as Derek continued to take pictures again. There were a few moments of silence before Stiles decided to break it. 

“I would’ve argued with her that Batman was better just to see a show, wouldn’t I have?” Derek’s breath seemed to catch in his throat as he nodded at Stiles. 

“She would’ve heard the lie in your heartbeat and argued anyway. She, uh, wouldn’t have liked you at first.” Stiles held a hand over his heart and gave Derek the best offended look he could and rejoiced inside when Derek smiled and took another picture. “At first!” Derek reiterated to calm Stiles’ down. “She wanted us all to end up with werewolves cause no one else would understand our kind. They wouldn’t be able to actually be formidable mates to someone of our superior strength and agility.” Stiles thought the explanation sounded memorized and knew that Derek must have had that conversation with Laura on many occasions. 

“Well, what about Lois?” Stiles asked, more defensive than he had planned. Derek smiled down at him and shook his head. 

“Laura thought that once Lois knew about Clark, her interest in him would die or she would leave because she wouldn’t be able to handle the nature of his… species,” Derek explained as he kneeled in front of Stiles. Stiles raised his eyebrows and leaned back in the chair, pulling the comic away from his lap. Derek rolled his eyes and reached for Stiles’ wrists to pull them back down. “I want to take some closeups of your hands with the comic and then with a copy of Pride and Prejudice.”

“Pride and Prejudice?” Stiles asked as Derek’s hands brushed over his, placing his fingers where he wanted them on the page. 

“Classrooms, bookstores, libraries,” Derek said with a wave of his hand. There was more Stiles wanted to know - he always wanted to get to know Derek when he could - but his mind repeated Derek’s other statement and couldn’t let it go. 

“So, Laura believed that the second anyone found out about your werewolf family they would either get bored of you or, what? Just leave?” Derek nodded and if Stiles didn’t know any better, seemed to pointedly avoid looking at him. “I guess not every human has a death wish like me, huh?” Stiles joked, dropping one side of the comic in hopes that Derek would touch him again. 

Derek sighed and glanced up at him with a furrowed brow. “You’ve been running with wolves since you were sixteen, right?” Derek asked, reaching for the novel on the shelf before replacing the comic book in Stiles’ hand. Stiles nodded in answer and opened the book to the title page, reading through the credits. He had never read the novel, but Lydia had forced him to watch the movie so he knew it wasn’t exactly a book he would expect Derek to have on his shelf. 

“As much as everyone tried to push the weak human away, I just kept following along and saving everyone’s lives,” Stiles bragged, shrugging his shoulders. He knew it was a big deal he even made it to middle age, but he didn’t like to think about it seriously. Humor had always been his way of coping with the crazy events that took over his childhood and as an adult, that mechanism hadn’t changed. 

“People--  _ ordinary _ people - don’t exactly stick around when they find out their boyfriend is a half-human half-wolf monster,” Derek said slowly as if he was trying to make Stiles understand what Stiles had already been annoyingly aware of.

“I had a girlfriend I met at the academy - Julie. She was a friend’s sister who I pretty much loved on sight or-- I thought I loved her. She was tough as nails in a tiny body and was a lot like Lydia.” Stiles ignored the low rumble that left Derek’s throat and urged him to keep taking pictures of his hands on the book. “A few months into our relationship, there was a pack emergency and Scott needed my help. He came into my apartment one night with a wolfsbane soaked bullet in his leg. I didn’t even think about explaining it to Julie cause my best friend was dying and I had the antidote.”

Derek nodded to show he was listening and when Stiles stayed silent, he rested a hand on Stiles’ knee and squeezed. “She freaked out?” Derek guessed correctly and Stiles imitated a bell. 

“Horribly. She saw Scott’s eyes and fangs and just, ran. She told me to lose her number when I tried to reach out and explain and I never heard from her or her brother again.” Stiles shrugged and flipped a few pages, reading a line aloud. “‘There are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well.’” Stiles whistled. “Relevant,” he commented as Derek chuckled. 

“Didn’t it hurt?” Derek asked softly, leaning against the edge of the chair and letting the camera hang down at his side. Stiles raised an eyebrow in question and closed the book before placing it on the side table. “Knowing that someone left just because of our -  _ your _ \- world?” Derek clarified. Stiles looked at him deep in thought. 

“I never really thought of it as my world, I guess. It was always Scott’s world. He was the superhero to my comic relief sidekick personality. It wasn’t until I took the job as sheriff that I ever considered it my world because it was mine to protect now, you know?” Stiles explained. He must have said something right because Derek surged forward and placed a hard kiss on his lips, one hand bracing himself on the arm of the chair while the other pressed against Stiles’ chest. Stiles propelled into him, craning his neck to deepen the kiss but before he could, Derek pulled back. 

“Laura wouldn’t have liked you at first, but she would have fallen in love with you the second you opened your mouth,” Derek said with a laugh, his nose brushing against Stiles’ as he licked his lips. 

“It takes a little bit for me to squirm my way into a Hale’s heart. I know from experience,” Stiles teased, pushing Derek’s hair off of his forehead and running a gentle hand down his back. 

Derek shook his head as he stood up, smiling down at Stiles softer than he ever had, and whispered, “It didn’t take nearly as long as you think, Sheriff.” He moved off of Stiles quickly like he needed the space before walking back toward his desk. He placed his camera down on the surface gently and asked, “Why don’t you get back into your regular clothes and we can catch the sunset with Luke?”

Stiles considered the implication of Derek’s words but with the immediacy in which he turned his back and the constant avoidance of his eyes, Stiles decided not to push. He held onto the fact that Derek might be just as in love with him as he was with Derek and that was enough for now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're not already following, I have a [Tumblr](https://sparkandwolf.tumblr.com) specifically for my Sterek obsession so feel free to follow it for updates and snippets and other Sterek content. I am **always** accepting prompts and questions, so please give me a shout!
> 
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> 
> Please, please, please let me know what you think of this in the comments and leave kudos if you enjoyed it! See you next update!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay in this chapter! I have an event I'm running in a different fandom that has been taking up a lot of my time. 
> 
> Thank you, as always, to [Morgan](https://skylar102.tumblr.com/) for being amazing. Take a look at this [gif](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/-1qju6V1jLM/maxresdefault.jpg) for an end of chapter mood.

The small pond set behind his home was the reason Derek moved to Beacon Hills. He immediately fell in love with the calm of it, the pureness of the water as it rippled to the shore, and the shine of the setting sun through the perfectly green trees. He had immediately imagined hauling Cora in the water through her complaints of wet hair and Laura tossing the frisbee with Luke, trying to run to catch up with him. There was a perfect line up of trees where his parents would have placed a hammock to sit beside each other and watch their family. 

Derek looked up as Stiles dipped his feet in the water, yelping at the chill of it while Luke’s immediate concern caused the dog to run over to check on him. Stiles rested a gentle hand on Luke’s head and muttered reassurances that he was okay and Derek, of course, took a few photos. It was the most normal Derek had felt in years and the thought seemed to sneak up on him as Stiles turned back with a bright smile on his face. He held up his hands as Derek snapped another picture and he could see Stiles’ eye roll through the lens. 

“We should put up a tire swing,” Stiles commented as Derek finally made his way over. He squatted down to let his hands trail over the still water, his touch so light it made Derek’s skin tingle wishing those fingers were on his skin. “Right over there,” Stiles decided, pointing toward a mess of trees on the edge of the pond. 

Derek grumbled, “Stay still,” before crouching beside him and snapping a few extra shots. The reflection on the sunset on the water coupled with Stiles’ smooth hands made the most perfect picture. Derek thought he would send them to a gallery or maybe even print them for himself. He imagined they would look good in black and white, lining the stairs that Scott had planned to build. 

“I could get used to all this attention, Hale,” Stiles teased. Derek turned to smile over at him but a small splash of water hit his cheek and knocked the smile into a gape. He ran his hand over his cheek to wipe off the offending liquid before stomping to the grass, setting his camera down lightly, and whirling on Stiles with a mischievous grin on his face. Stiles’ face whitened and his eyes went wide, his hands darting up in defense as he glanced down at Luke like a plea for help. 

“Zostać,” Derek commanded with a grin. Luke froze, his eyes darting from Stiles to his owner as Stiles pushed off his feet and started running. Derek’s eyes flashed as he took off after him, easily catching up and wrapping his arms around Stiles’ waist. Stiles squealed - an incredibly high pitched sound that Derek would be sure to make fun of him for later - as Derek picked him up and started shuffling toward the water. 

“You _wouldn’t_ !” Stiles accused, going pin straight in Derek’s arms. Derek laughed and the motion jostled Stiles enough that he almost squirmed free. “Be prepared, Derek, I am going to make _so many_ wet dog jokes if you go through with this,” Stiles challenged, gripping onto Derek’s arms as tight as he could. Derek stopped for a moment, debating with himself as to his next move. He wasn’t the biggest fan of water, but if it meant more laughter out of Stiles’ mouth… 

“Worth it,” he decided as he sprinted forward, the water sloshing around him until he was mid-thigh in it. He dropped Stiles before he could think twice about the choice and reveled in the delighted laughter that echoed off of the pond. Stiles glared up at him but couldn’t hide the joy in his eyes just as Derek couldn’t wipe the grin off of his lips. Derek went to back away, but Stiles gripped his calf and his glare turned into a mischievous smirk. 

“Don’t you _da_ \--” Derek’s mouth was full of water before he could finish his threat. He sputtered above the surface as he was pulled further into the pond. Arms wrapped around his neck and legs sealed around his waist so Derek had no choice but to keep the two of them afloat. 

“You know, if someone was watching us, they’d think we’re part of one of those Nicholas Sparks movies,” Stiles noted. At Derek’s tilted head and look of confusion, Stiles gaped at him and leaned back. Derek had to kick a little harder to keep them above the water but Stiles didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t care. “Nicholas Sparks? The Notebook? A Walk to Remember?” Derek shook his head and winced as Stiles smacked his back as best he could underwater. 

“Are you gonna explain what those are?” Derek asked, holding Stiles tighter against him as a chill blew through the air. Stiles let his legs fall and they tangled together, holding each other above the still water as the sun continued to set. 

“They’re romance movies! Well, books first. Nicholas Sparks writes incredible romances,” Stiles commented and when Derek threw him a judgmental look, he tugged on his hair with a scoff. “Hey, don’t knock them until you try them.” Derek chuckled as he smoothed back a wet strand of hair that had fallen into Stiles’ face. 

“And why would we be part of one?” Derek asked softly, wrapping one arm around Stiles’ waist as he felt him shiver. Stiles peered up at him with a gentleness in his eyes that Derek had never received before. 

“Well, this would be the part of the story where the camera would be right over there,” Stiles began as he pointed to the shore where Luke sat, his eyes peacefully closed, “so the sunset is behind us. It would be a perfect shot for our first kiss.” Derek raised his eyebrows as Stiles leaned his forehead down, water dripping from his hair into Derek’s eyes but he couldn’t find it in himself to care with Stiles looking at him like he was. 

“We’ve already had our first kiss,” Derek noted, closing his eyes as he breathed in the scent of Stiles that surrounded him. 

Stiles nodded, his lower lip brushing against Derek’s when he spoke. “Every time we kiss is like the first time,” Stiles whispered, but Derek couldn’t hold back his huff of laughter at the cheesiness his life was suddenly full of. Stiles tried to pull away, an offended look on his face, but Derek tightened his grip on Stiles’ waist before he could get too far. “That was a good line,” Stiles argued with a pout. 

Derek kissed him chastely and nodded as he agreed, “It was a _great_ line.” Once he was sure Stiles was smiling, he leaned forward to capture Stiles’ lips again. Their mouths moved slowly, neither of them in rush to take the kiss any further, opting instead to let their legs tangle together, Derek’s wading arm the only thing holding them above the water. Stiles bit down on Derek’s lip and pulled it into his mouth to suck on the skin there tentatively. The chill that raced down Derek’s spine was either from the cold or from the feeling of Stiles’ lips, but Derek didn’t give himself a chance to decide which one as he felt one of Stiles’ hands slide down his stomach, fingering the button of his jeans. At the thought of his jeans, Derek growled and tore his lips away from Stiles’. 

“Hey, I wasn’t done yet,” Stiles muttered, threading a hand through Derek’s hair to try and pull their mouths back together. It took everything in Derek to turn his head away. 

“We have to walk all the way back to the house like this,” Derek said as he let go og Stiles to swim back to where he could stand. Stiles followed and shook out his hair as he stood before running a hand through it. Derek felt his jeans tighten uncomfortably at the look of it. 

“Just think of how wonderful it will feel when I finally get you out of these,” Stiles flirted with a wink, his hand brushing across Derek’s hardness as he sauntered by. Derek groaned and looked up at the sky that had darkened more than he expected. A small tinge of anxiety spread through him at the thought of being out in the dark with Stiles. He couldn’t believe that he let himself forget about the mountain ash left for him that morning and couldn’t risk the fact that whoever set the trap was waiting for Derek to let his guard down. 

“We have to head back, okay?” Derek was momentarily grateful for Stiles’ ability to read people and wondered if it was that he was learning to read Derek specifically. He pushed the thought aside as Luke’s nose lifted to the air and he jumped to his feet with a growl on his curled back lips. Derek pulled Stiles behind him and ordered, “Stay behind me.” 

“I can--” Stiles went to argue but Derek’s eyes flashed to effectively halt Stiles’ dispute. “Only - and I mean _only_ \- because I didn’t bring my gun. What’s going on? What do you hear?” Stiles asked, holding onto Derek’s arm as he took a few steps forward. Luke’s nose was to the ground, following whatever scent he had caught. 

“Dobry, Luke. Iść.” At Derek’s command, Luke took off, sprinting into the woods in front of them. They followed, Derek slowing himself so that Stiles didn’t lose his grasp on his arm. 

“Derek, we should call Scott--” Derek turned to glare at him, the mention of Stiles’ alpha too much for his heightened senses to handle. Luke’s aggressive barking struck through the silence and before he could slow himself down, a string sliced into his ankle. He fell forward, holding his arms out to catch his fall but he was stopped by a force slamming against his body. He saw the mountain ash circle and cursed. 

“Luke!” Derek called him to break the circle, but a rush of air had him holding his hand out. Embedded into the tree beside him was an arrow, coated in what Derek could smell was wolfsbane. “Both of you, back! Wstecz!” Derek ordered. Stiles surged forward only to be thwarted by Luke who had placed himself between the circle and Stiles. Derek took a deep breath as he listened for the click to indicate the next arrow in his direction. 

He heard it as clear as the night sky that seemed to sneak up on him and he turned to try to catch sight of it before it could propel into him. This one was lower; whoever had set up the trap knew wolves and figured Derek would be in a defensive crouch position after at least one failed attempt at injury. Apparently, they didn’t consider that Derek would be more concerned for Stiles than himself. The arrow hit the dirt behind him, just outside of the circle, but Derek growled as a sharp pain shot up his leg. The arrow had skimmed his calf and black blood started oozing through his jeans. He hissed and fell to the ground, clutching the wound as if that would do anything to stop the pain rushing through him. 

He heard the click of another arrow into place and as he looked over at Stiles, their faces held matched panic. He couldn’t maneuver his way out and he figured if the hunter after him was as experienced as Derek had guessed, it was aimed right for his heart. He held a hand out against the shield surrounding him, trying to find a weakness, a way out so that he could protect Stiles and Luke, and his stomach dropped when he realized there was none. All of a sudden, he felt the circle break. His eyes widened in surprise and darted accusingly toward Stiles and to his shock, both Luke and Stiles hadn’t moved from their marks. 

“Derek, run!” He jumped over the broken circle of ash just as another arrow shot toward him. It lodged into the tree and that time, it exploded, sending splinters of bark throughout the forest. Derek turned back toward Stiles and Luke to see both of them splayed out on the ground, Luke covering as much of Stiles as his smaller form could. Derek’s heart skipped when Luke’s fur started reddening with blood. Derek didn’t care about the risk of crossing the path of the arrows again; he sprinted toward Stiles and Luke, his knees slamming to the dirt next to them. 

“Are you okay?” Derek asked, too preoccupied pressing his hand over the open wound in Luke’s side. He could feel a sliver of bark protruding from the dog’s side and tried to suppress the panic flooding through him. Stiles’ hand resting on his shoulder was the only thing to keep him calm enough to act. He scooped Luke up in his arms and stood, Stiles’ touch never wavering. 

“I’m okay. Luke--” Stiles swallowed as if his throat was dry, “Luke took the brunt of it.” Derek glanced at Stiles to be sure that he was uninjured and relief flooded through him when all he could see was dirt. 

“We have to get him to the house,” Derek said, his voice shaking almost as much as the hands that held the only family he had left. He felt his knees weaken as he walked and the house coming into view was the only thing to stop the tears from welling up in his eyes. 

“We should bring him to town; I know who can help.”

* * *

Stiles had ushered Derek into his car and when Derek tried to argue, Stiles flicked the sirens on without another word. He watched closely in the rearview mirror as Derek held Luke’s head on his lap, stroking him so gently, Stiles thought his heart might explode. He was muttering words that Stiles couldn’t hear, but he recognized that he was telling Luke how good he was in Polish. 

Derek cared for that dog more than Stiles had ever seen anyone care for a pet. He knew from what Derek had mentioned that he didn’t have family - at least, not anymore - so Luke _was_ Derek’s family. And he was bleeding from his side with only Derek’s hand and an extra shirt Stiles had laying around pressed against it. 

Stiles texted Scott while Derek put Luke in the car, hoping he could get a hold of Deaton better than Stiles could. Stiles had cried wolf - pun not intended - too many times for Deaton to answer him immediately. Scott sent him a thumbs up, no questions asked, and said to meet them at the veterinary clinic. Scott still had a key and a basic understanding of canine’s to patch Luke up if Deaton wasn’t available. 

“Who are we meeting?” Derek asked once they broke through the towering trees and made their way closer to town. Stiles glanced in the mirror and smiled reassuringly at Derek. 

“An old friend, the emissary for Scott’s pack, and resident veterinarian.” Derek nodded once and Stiles tried to ignore his trembling lip. “He’s patched me up on too many occasions to count. Usually those times when Melissa was too busy patching up the rest of the pack.” Derek’s eyes shot away from Luke at that and Stiles winced, instantly regretting his words. “It was never serious,” Stiles lied because it definitely was at times, but Derek didn’t need to hear that. He needed comfort and Stiles wanted nothing more than to give it to him. 

“How much longer?” Derek said barely above a whisper. Stiles pulled into the long driveway before he could answer and parked as quickly as he could. He recognized the cars in the lot; Scott and Allison’s truck, Boyd and Erica’s sports car that Stiles truly hated, and even Lydia’s Prius was nestled into a space. He hoped it wouldn’t be too much for Derek to handle. 

“They’re all inside,” Stiles said as he opened Derek’s door. Derek looked up at him, feigning strength when Stiles knew he was barely holding on. “Do you need help with Luke?” Derek shook his head as he slid out of the car, Luke held in his arms like the precious cargo Stiles knew him to be. His eyes were open, his tongue hanging out as small pants escaped his mouth but not a peep was to be heard. 

“Who’s in there?” Derek asked, his voice quiet and if Stiles heard correctly, there was a hint of nervousness in it. 

“The pack,” Stiles said simply as he pushed the doors open. They were bombarded by noise, which Stiles should have warned Derek about if his flashing blue eyes were any indication. His fangs shot out and he pulled Luke closer, a small squeal of discomfort from Luke resounding around the room at the tightness of his hold. Derek reverted back to human instantly, glancing at Stiles with pleading eyes. 

“Let the man through, McCall Pack. Let me take a look at…” Deaton trailed off and looked expectantly at Derek whose eyes darted to Stiles. 

“This is Luke. He’s the most precious dog you’ve ever cared for, and that’s over Scotty here,” Stiles joked, trying to ease the tension in the room as he ran a hand along Luke’s head. The dog seemed to smile up at him, sniffing at his hand in thanks. “He saved me from being hauled to Melissa so I owe him my life,” Stiles said, returning Luke’s smile. 

“It’s just a couple of splinters and a limp paw, Stilinski,” Erica grumbled as she crossed her arms over her chest. 

“He meant that my mother would have killed him,” Scott explained, taking a step toward Derek and holding out his arms. Derek sent a worrying glance at Stiles who could only nod encouragingly. 

“Scott here was our resident veterinary tech until he decided on a more artsy career.” Stiles rested a hand on Derek’s shoulder and felt him instantly relax. Derek let Luke slide into Scott’s arms before he made his way into the back room with Deaton. 

“Dobry, Luke. Reszta,” Derek said softly. Stiles watched Luke’s eyes disappear behind the door, not once leaving Derek’s until the door closed. Stiles may have had his pack all around him, but Derek’s was injured and gone from sight. When he turned back to Derek, he grabbed his trembling hands and urged him to look up from the blood covering them. 

“Hey, let’s get you cleaned up. Deaton and Scott are the _best_. You know I’d never let my buddy be treated by just anyone, right?” Stiles stared at Derek until he nodded in reserved agreement. The pack was eerily quiet as Stiles led him to the sink. He kept a hand on Derek’s arm while he cleaned and chanced a glance back to see expectant gazes. 

Lydia had a smirk on her face, one that Stiles had seen too many times before that clearly stated ‘I told you so.’ Boyd looked seriously at Stiles, his eyes narrowed as if he didn’t know what to make of the situation, but didn’t particularly care enough to ask. Allison held onto Lydia’s hand and looked worriedly at the two of them; always the mom of the group. 

It was Erica who decided to speak up, “Anyone gonna fill us in? Or are we just going to sit here and pretend that Stiles isn’t completely in love with the rogue wolf he found wandering the grocery store less than--” Stiles tossed a rolled-up bandage in her direction and Boyd caught it before it could hit her. It did what Stiles had wanted as Erica pressed her lips together and crossed her arms over her rumbling chest. 

“Allison, any other hunters check in with you lately?” She shook her head and stepped forward, the entire pack more alert at the mention of hunters. Derek stiffened as well, but Stiles ignored it and let him continue scrubbing his already clean hands. 

“None. Dad’s been keeping an ear out ever since Morgan.” Stiles nodded and stared Erica down. 

“Without sarcasm, has there been anything on the scanner tonight? More bodies or suspects to look into?” Erica shook her head as she rolled her eyes. Apparently she couldn’t even speak without sarcasm so Stiles was grateful she kept her mouth shut. 

“We got one result back from the ash we sent out to similar crime scenes,” Boyd started before Stiles could ask any questions. Derek turned abruptly causing Stiles to jump, but when he heard the tear of paper towels, he figured he was just keyed up from the earlier excitement. 

“Any matches?” Boyd raised his eyebrows as Derek gripped the countertop until his knuckles went white. Stiles let one of his hands rest on top of Derek’s to try and ease whatever pain he was feeling but kept his eyes on his pack. 

“There’s a mixture of mountain ash, chemically treated wood, and another species of wood native to New York and not found in California.” Stiles nodded again and before he could say anything, Derek turned toward the pack. 

“How long has Stiles been able to manipulate mountain ash?” He asked gruffly. Stiles gaped at him, a surge of anger rushing through his body at whatever insinuation Derek was making. Lydia sensed his annoyance and took a step forward. 

“I don’t know what you’re getting at, Derek, but--” Derek growled low in his chest and suddenly, every wolf in the clinic had their claws and fangs out, ready to fight. Stiles took a step in front of Derek, blocking his pack from Erica and Boyd. He didn’t trust either of them to not go after Derek when the clinic smelled of McCall pack. He was the odd one out to everyone besides Stiles and that made it his job to protect Derek. 

“I will not hesitate to throw you,” he turned to glare at Derek for emphasis, “ _any_ of you in a wolfsbane coated jail cell for the night if you can’t keep your pointy talons away from each other. Am I understood?” Stiles threatened. Apparently, his words didn’t register as none of the wolf’s growls stopped. 

“Enough,” came Scott’s voice from the back. Derek gripped onto Stiles’ shirt as if on instinct, his wolf retreating at any notion of information about Luke. Boyd and Erica immediately listened to their alpha and Stiles was grateful for his intervention. Scott ignored his pack - he ignored the whines and low growls of his pack much to Stiles’ surprise - and stepped up to where Stiles and Derek stood, his face softening. “He’s got some gnarly splinters embedded in his side and his left metatarsus is broken, but Deaton is cleaning the wound and splinting him up. He’s going to be _fine_.”

Derek let out an audible sigh and stepped around Stiles, holding his hand out to Scott. “Thank you, I-- Stiles trusts you and so do I,” Derek said and Stiles would be lying if he said the admission was what he expected. 

“Now, why are you asking about Stiles and mountain ash?” Scott questioned and whatever relief Derek had felt broke as Stiles felt him stiffen again. Stiles nodded his head and rested a hand on Derek’s arm, trying to get Derek to look at him. Derek’s eyes stayed plastered on Scott and Stiles was really sick of the werewolf hierarchy he was never a part of. 

“I was trapped in a mountain ash circle behind my property,” Derek started as if he was reciting a report. Stiles thought he might have been a good cop if he ever wanted a career change. “Stiles and Luke were at least five feet away and then suddenly, the circle was broken.” Derek finally glanced at Stiles and this time, it was Stiles who looked away. 

“Mountain ash circles break, Derek. Wind can blow just right, a mistake could have been made,” Scott explained, but even Stiles didn’t believe him. 

“We were in the middle of the forest. No wind and whoever did this is no mediocre, Scotty. This was a trap set for a wolf, wolfsbane arrows and all.” Scott nodded and looked between Derek and Stiles as if taking in their appearances. Stiles looked down at himself and remembered that they were both still damp from the water. The car ride had done little to nothing to dry them off and the cool air in the clinic caught up to Stiles as he shivered. He saw Derek’s hand twitch as if he wanted to pull Stiles closer and the hesitation hurt Stiles more than it should. He was supposed to be angry at Derek and even then, he could barely bring himself to be. 

“Stiles, what do you remember?” Scott asked, apparently deciding against questioning how they looked. Stiles felt his heart jump and he knew it would have been noticed by every wolf in the room. He heard the click of Lydia’s heels and felt warm arms wrap around his waist. He leaned into the heat, ignoring Derek’s grumble. The noise earned him a glare from both Stiles and Lydia. 

“We all saw you hesitate, Hale. If you’re not going to warm him up, someone has to,” Lydia said sternly as Allison draped a towel over Stiles’ shoulders. Stiles smiled softly at her as she made her way back over to Scott, the two of them fitting together as perfectly as they always had. Stiles took a deep breath when he felt his skin warming again and closed his eyes to try and remember the woods. 

“Luke had smelled something, caught a scent while we were walking back to the house. I-- I didn’t have my gun,” he noted, squeezing his hand into a fist as the careless mistake. He was momentarily shocked when Derek’s hand covered it and brought it up to his shoulder. Stiles rested his palm there and opened his eyes to see Derek smiling hesitantly at him. 

“From the looks of you two, I’d say whatever you had planned was a gun optional event,” Erica commented with a scoff as she sat in one of the waiting room chairs. Stiles glared at her before Scott snapped for his attention. 

“Keep going,” Scott urged with a wave of his hand. Stiles nodded and closed his eyes again, trying to put himself back in the forest again. 

“Luke had stopped in the path and was barking--”

“Which he never does unless there’s danger or if I let him play,” Derek chimed in, his voice filled with seriousness. Stiles nodded along and tightened his hold on Derek’s shoulder. 

“Derek didn’t stop, kept walking until it was like he hit an invisible brick wall,” Stiles continued. He heard Boyd’s low curse of ‘mountain ash’ and continued, “I went to help him, but he ordered us back. Luke blocked me so I couldn’t help and the first arrow landed in the tree behind him.”

“I smelled the wolfbane the second it passed me. I wouldn’t let Luke and Stiles near me, I wasn’t going to let them get hurt,” Derek said, pleading. Scott nodded at him and the look in his eyes told Stiles that he believed it. He had no reason not to; Stiles was here, uninjured, while Luke was getting patched up and Derek had--

“Derek, your leg,” Stiles remembered, pulling himself away from Lydia to crouch down beside Derek. The fabric of his jeans was crusted against the wound, black sludge oozing from it slowly with each passing second. “It’s wolfsbane,” Stiles shouted, sending a panicked glance at Allison. She rushed to the cabinet and pulled out the stash of monkshood Deaton always had handy, kneeling beside Stiles to offer her assistance. 

“Scott, can you?” He moved quickly, holding onto Derek’s waist as he tossed a lighter in Allison’s direction. She caught it like the two were flawlessly in sync. 

“I’m fine, it doesn’t even--” Allison lit the monkshood and as soon as the fire dulled, spread it into the wound expertly. Derek let out a shout, grasping at Stiles’ shoulder tightly as ground his teeth in pain.

“You idiot, how did you even walk in here? How did you not feel that? Are you _trying_ to die on me?!” Stiles accused as he shot up to standing so he was face to face with Derek. He looked pale, sweat dripping down his face and a pained look in his eyes but it did nothing to ease Stiles’ anger. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Stiles asked heatedly. He was angrier than he had been even moments before but he still grabbed a damp paper towel from Scott’s hand and wiped it over Derek’s face. 

“I didn’t notice it and Luke--” 

“Luke is a _dog_ , Derek, and he doesn’t have a poisonous life-threatening plant species running through his veins right now!” Stiles argued, resisting the urge to throw Derek into one of the wolfsbane coated cells at the station just for the hell of it. 

“He’s not just a dog, Stiles, you know tha--” Stiles scoffed and rolled his eyes, holding onto Derek’s shirt as if he’d disappear otherwise. 

“I _know_ that if something didn’t happen to Luke, we might not have had access to monkshood as I’m sure your careless werewolf self doesn’t keep any around. You could’ve been dead by morning!” 

“You’re being ridiculous, _Sheriff_.” At the use of his title over his name, Stiles thought he might lose it. He gaped and felt his face heat with frustration as he interrupted Derek once more. 

“I can’t believe you--”

“Would you shut your mouth for once and let me _finish_?!” 

“Enough!” Scott yelled again, his voice booming through the clinic around them. Stiles’ chest was heaving from where it was pressed against Derek’s with every intake of breath and Derek wasn’t faring any better. He heard laughter beside him and shot a stare filled with daggers at Erica who shrugged in response. 

“It’s about time Sheriff Stilinski had someone to keep him in check,” she said with a wink at Stiles. He glanced back up at Derek, opting to ignore Erica as he usually did, and where he expected to see anger, there was a unique smile pulling at Derek’s lips. Stiles leaned down and pressed his hand along Derek’s wound, grateful it hadn’t fully healed yet. Derek hissed out in pain and threaded his fingers through Stiles’ hair to tug him away, both of their faces turning to dark smiles. It was as if all of the stress of the last hour had washed off of them and they were back to whatever normal they had been trying so hard to make. He ignored the confused looks of the pack as the back door creaked open. 

“A spark,” Deaton’s voice smoothed through the clinic as he entered the room. Stiles stood, letting Derek lean into him as everyone looked in his direction. “I always had my suspicions, but the ability to manipulate mountain ash? That affirms it.”

“I have a spark?” Stiles asked. He tilted his head to look down at his hands, snapping his fingers like he’d all of a sudden have power he had never noticed before. He never felt magical, never felt anything more than human, but he thought back to the baggie in his car with the ash that wound up in his hand and glanced wide-eyed back up at Deaton. 

“You _are_ a spark.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're not already following, I have a [Tumblr](https://sparkandwolf.tumblr.com) specifically for my Sterek obsession so feel free to follow it for updates and snippets and other Sterek content. I am **always** accepting prompts and questions, so please give me a shout!
> 
> Also, feel free to follow my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/thatnerdemilyj) and let me know what you think. 
> 
> Please, please, please let me know what you think of this in the comments and leave kudos if you enjoyed it! See you soon!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a lot of growth for our dear Sheriff Stilinski so I hope you fall more in love with him just as I have. 
> 
> I do apologize for the long wait, but hope that this chapter makes up for it! Enjoy ♥️

“You are a spark,” Deaton said slowly, eyeing Stiles carefully. Derek wasn’t sure what to make of the vet; he had patched up Luke and Stiles seemed to trust him which should have been enough for Derek, but there was something in his eyes that had Derek moving in front of Stiles protectively. 

“What does that… mean?” Scott asked, his own eyes searching Stiles’ body like he was looking for an imperfection that Derek knew he didn’t have. 

Deaton sighed and pulled out a book on veterinary medicine from behind his desk but when he flipped the page, Derek saw hieroglyphics he didn’t recognize. “A spark is a magical being, one who holds great power that can remain dormant for the entirety of a spark’s life.” Stiles stepped around Deaton and leaned over the book, humming. Derek wished he could read his mind. 

“Stilinski’s a witch now?” Erica asked, earning a glare from Stiles. Derek rested a hand on his back because even though he was still heated, no one talked about Stiles like that. 

“It seems his…” Deaton gestured between Derek and Stiles with floaty movements," _Derek_ being in danger catapulted his magic into action. A spark’s magic is controlled by emotion which makes him that much more powerful than any regular magical being.” 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Stiles stuttered, slamming the book shut before staring at his hands as if they would sprout scales in a moment, “I’ve had this _magic_ inside of me forever, right? So many people I’ve lo-- cared about have been hurt, _killed_ by mountain ash traps. Why has this ‘spark’ never shown itself before?” Stiles’ voice was filled with venom and Derek could guess why. 

Derek had heard the stories - the many times Scott, Allison, Stiles’ father, Melissa, all of the people in his life that were more important to Stiles than Derek had been captured, tortured, left on the brink of death. Stiles himself had been taken over by a nogitsune spirit and this spark that Deaton spoke of had still remained dormant. If Derek was in Stiles’ shoes, he would probably be pissed, too. 

Deaton shook his head and rested a hand on Stiles’ arm and Derek growled; he couldn’t help it. Deaton stated, “No one understands the way a spark works, Sheriff, but from my understanding, each spark is controlled by one certain emotion. It could be anger, fear, sadness, love…” he trailed off when Stiles’ eyes darted to Derek’s and then left before Derek could think too much of it. 

“I was just as scared and angry out in that forest as I was when the Alpha Pack had Scott, when the evil bitch teacher from actual Hell had my dad, when Allison was hanging on an _inch_ from death by the--” Scott’s eyes flashed red as he pulled Allison closer to his side. Derek felt the tension in the room rise with every word and uptick of Stiles’ heart he knew every wolf in the room could hear. 

“Stiles, we know you would have done everything you could if you--” Stiles turned on Scott before he could finish his thought, a fire in his eyes that Derek had never seen before. 

“If what, Scotty? You’re telling me that if we had lost Allison and found out about this, you wouldn’t be pounding me into a pulp right about now? I could’ve _saved_ people, could’ve actually helped the pack all these years,” Stiles’ breath pushed out, a dark laugh that barely sounded human, and he turned back toward Deaton sharply. “You _knew_ about this? ‘Had your suspicions,’ did you? Then figure out what the hell happened tonight. I’m going to go see Luke.” With that, Stiles pushed through the heavy doors to the back. Derek wanted to follow, to help Stiles and see his best friend, but he turned on Scott’s suspecting eyes instead. 

Derek shrugged his shoulders and said, “You’re his alpha.” Scott huffed out a broken laugh as Allison patted his arm and shot Derek a soft smile. 

“He just found out he’s a magical being and has been for the entirety of our traumatic childhood. He’s going to want to see you,” Scott argued, gesturing toward the back room that Stiles had vanished into. 

“I think if anyone should go back there, it’s Deaton,” Lydia said, her eyes narrowed in the vet’s direction. “He seemed pretty hurt that you knew about this,” she accused, hands on her hips as her glare turned to fire. Deaton sighed and leaned against the desk behind him, his eyes moving between Derek and Scott. Derek felt like he was being picked apart with each passing moment and he, once again, questioned Stiles’ trust in the man. 

“I’m a man of science, Ms. Martin. There was no evidence to suggest Stiles was anything but ordinary until…” He gestured at Derek almost accusatorily and Scott pressed his lips together as if holding back a laugh. 

“I’ve known Stiles for a few short months and I knew immediately that he wasn’t ordinary. My wolf--” Derek grappled with how to explain his instinctive feelings regarding Stiles, but Allison interrupted by stepping in front of Scott and resting a hand on Derek’s arm. 

“My dad had always thought there was something Stiles wasn’t telling us, but he seemed just as surprised by this as the rest of us,” she offered. Derek wondered if she was always so maternal or if it was the introduction of Melody that made her like that. He appreciated the simple gesture either way. 

It was quiet for a few minutes, no one really sure what to say. If their pack connection was anything like Derek remembered, they all felt whatever Stiles was dealing with from the privacy of the back room. Derek hoped that he and Luke were providing each other the comfort he couldn’t quite give them yet. Scott tapped his fingers against his jaw and sighed heavily before leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling. 

“How could he not know, Deaton? How could none of us have seen it?” Scott asked. The guilt was clear in his tone and it was as if he felt as though he had failed Stiles in some way. Derek knew he was more affected because of his alpha status and felt briefly sorry for the werewolf. 

Derek was about to break the silence when the back door opened and Stiles appeared, more put together than Derek could have ever expected. 

“Everybody needs to go home,” Stiles said sternly, arms crossing over his chest in a way that screamed Sheriff and Derek raised an eyebrow in his direction. Stiles ignored it easily and glanced at Erica and Boyd. “I need you two at the station bright and early tomorrow.

Erica groaned and said, “It’s supposed to be my morn--” Stiles leveled her with one look and she nodded before he continued. 

“I need you at the station to conduct interviews with Morgan’s family. There’s something we’re missing and I _trust_ you to get to the bottom of it. And Boyd,” he started as the werewolf stood, “I need you to run a few more tests on the ash, I’ve got some extra in the truck.”

“We did everything we could think of,” Boyd offered, widening his stance in defense. 

“There’s something we’re _missing_ ,” Stiles repeated with a scowl. Boyd didn’t argue and Derek didn’t blame him. He might not have known everything about Stiles yet, but he realized that going toe to toe with Sheriff Stilinski was not in anyone’s best interest. Stiles turned to Scott and Allison, both of them looking expectantly at their friend, faces laced with worry. 

“Can we help?” Scott asked. Derek took a moment to take in what was happening. Scott, the alpha of their pack, looking to Stiles to lead. It made Derek’s heart hurt and soar, the feeling almost overwhelming him. 

Stiles seemed to think for a moment before stepping up to Allison and pulling her into a tight hug. “You keep my goddaughter safe for me. Whatever was happening in Beacon Hills--” Stiles cut himself off with a shake of his head. “It’s personal now. They went after someone I love.” Stiles turned toward Derek and corrected, “Two someones I love and there was nothing about this attack that screamed ‘I come in peace.’” Scott nodded and placed a hand on Stiles’ shoulder. With a reassuring squeeze, Scott nodded his head toward the door and the pack disappeared into the night. 

“Mr. Stilinski, I believe I owe you an apo--” Stiles held up a hand without taking his eyes off of Derek. 

“You need to tell Derek how to take care of Luke and then we have to go. We need a good night’s sleep after the day we’ve had.” Deaton pressed his lips together in understanding before taking out a pad and writing a few notes down. He handed it over to Derek who gladly took it, scanning over the instructions carefully. Lydia grabbed it from his hand to look it over and Derek resisted the urge to growl.

“The splint has to stay on for four to six weeks and then he should be good to go. Make sure he stays fed and hydrated. He may be a bit groggy for the next few days, but that’s completely normal,” Deaton explained. Derek nodded in thanks and turned to Lydia. 

“Are you a vet, too?” He asked and Stiles huffed out a laugh from a few feet away. Derek had never been so glad to hear it. 

“She’s not, but she’s going to stick her nose in our business for the entirety of our relationship, so get used to it,” Stiles teased as he walked to Lydia and wrapped her in a hug. Lydia begrudgingly hugged back, pulling away to place her hands on his chest and look him over. 

“Can you please try not to die before morning? We’ve got a _lot_ to talk about,” she said accusingly, her eyes darting to Derek with a look he couldn’t quite place. If Lydia thought they had a lot to talk about, Derek knew he was in for a long conversation with Stiles when they got back to his house. 

Derek wasn’t sure why he assumed Stiles would still be going home with him. After everything that had happened, Stiles should have been running for the hills. But Lydia kissed him on the cheek and wandered out the door and Stiles stayed put. Derek watched as Stiles took a deep breath in, his hand pressing against his shoulder. Derek’s heart pounded at the familiar tic and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to Stiles. 

“You wanna go home?” Derek offered, hoping Stiles realized the intention behind his words. Stiles nodded and wordlessly pulled Derek into the warmest hug neither of them had realized they needed. Derek nuzzled his nose into Stiles’ neck and breathed deeply, pulling in his scent to remind him that they were okay - physically and mentally, they were _okay_. 

“Yeah,” Stiles breathed as he slowly pulled away, “let’s go home.”

* * *

Derek laid Luke on the couch, a place Stiles hadn’t seen the dog rest in the time he had known the two. He figured Derek to be one of those pet owners who didn’t allow their dog on any piece of furniture after he hadn’t allowed Luke on the bed. Seeing this side of him, the nurturing, caring side, had Stiles’ heart beating a bit faster than usual. He moved to the kitchen to pour a glass of water to give the two some privacy. 

Stiles played back their evening in his mind. It had been so close to perfect, Stiles could still taste it on his tongue. He’d seen a side of Derek before the disaster that he had longed to see. His smile, his carefree posture, his playful nature that Stiles knew must have existed behind the broody exterior with a traumatic past to boot. Stiles had longed for it and he realized, for what felt like the millionth time since he had met Derek, that _they_ were it. 

That feeling Stiles had always had growing up - the one that told him he’d never find someone to love him as much as he wanted to be loved - was demolished the moment he had met Derek. He had said the word he had always been afraid to say to every person he had dated in the past with such ease in a room full of the people he cared about the most and no one had batted an eye. 

Stiles was in love with Derek and he was damn sure they were going to talk about it. 

“How’s he doing?” Stiles asked as he handed a cup of water to Derek when he entered the kitchen. Derek smiled softly in thanks and downed half the glass before shrugging noncommittally. 

“He’ll survive,” Derek said but the words seemed to catch in his throat. That dog was Derek’s family just as much as Stiles’ dad was to him. He could imagine the sheer terror that had scorched through Derek’s entire body at the thought of not having him anymore. 

Stiles moved closer, pressing his hand to Derek’s shoulder, and sighed, “We all did. Whoever this is? He’s not going to beat us,” Stiles promised, hoping Derek understood the sincerity of his words. 

“Tonight doesn’t even feel real, Stiles,” Derek said exasperatedly. Stiles nodded in agreement and slid his hand around Derek’s neck, threading his fingers through the dark hair above it. “I thought--” 

“Me too,” Stiles interrupted as he set his water down on the counter. “We need to talk about what you heard me say…” Stiles trailed off, waiting for an argument or a quick change of subject. Derek averted his gaze and Stiles was pleasantly surprised he didn’t instantly try to stop the conversation from going any further. 

Derek cleared his throat and said softly, “You hungry?” Stiles let out a shaky breath and pressed his lips to Derek’s cheek as he nodded. 

“You have to sit. Your leg must be killing you,” he noted, gesturing to the blood-soaked fabric sticking to the leftover residue of the burnt mountain ash. Derek raised a teasing eyebrow at him as he took a seat and Stiles started to the fridge to see what their options were. 

“Werewolf, Stiles,” Derek said by way of an explanation. Stiles rolled his eyes as he leaned down to inspect the contents of Derek’s practically empty fridge. His eyes caught the fresh fruit on the second shelf and his heart warmed a little when he spied the whipped cream next to it. He bypassed them in favor of checking the freezer. His eyes widened when he saw the pint of _Cherry Garcia_ ice cream at front and center. 

“Did you buy me ice cream?” Stiles asked as he grabbed the container and turned back toward Derek. A blush spread across Derek’s cheeks before he shrugged, running a hand through his hair and scratching the back of his head as if trying to come up with an on-the-spot explanation. 

“Last time I had it in the house you said Cherry Garcia was your favorite?” Derek said the words like a question as if he was afraid Stiles would be angry that Derek had remembered the small detail and was thinking of him while at the grocery store. In reality, it felt as if all the pieces of Stiles’ life were fitting together. 

“I said I loved you,” Stiles blurted and he almost regretted it as panic turned Derek’s blushing face an alarming shade of white. Stiles took a deep breath before continuing, “I said that the son of a bitch who hurt you and Luke went after someone I loved and I need you to know I meant it.” 

Derek nodded slowly, hesitantly. He said nothing to quell the uncharacteristic vulnerability that seemed to be racing through Stiles’ veins. He had thought before that Derek must have loved him; back when he sank his teeth into Stiles’ throat to claim him or when he smiled so brightly and let Stiles take his picture. If he had thought Derek didn’t reciprocate his feelings, he might not have started the conversation after the day they endured. 

“I usually take silence after a love confession as a pretty hardcore rejection so now would be the time to maybe say something,” Stiles said, trying to hold back the pleas he wanted to scream. He wasn’t going to ask Derek to love him back but he needed to know that Derek had heard him, _believed_ him. 

Derek’s voice came out in a whisper after what felt like hours, “We aren’t in love.” Stiles choked back a laugh because he knew it would sound broken. He slammed the pint of ice cream down on the island Derek was seated at before crossing his arms in front of his chest. 

“If that’s your way of saying ‘I don’t love you back,’ I’m really going to need you to say it.” When no words came, Stiles ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m a cop, Derek, so I take confessions very seriously. I know that they can be coerced if a person is pushed too hard or faked in the name of protecting someone else…” Stiles trailed off as Derek’s mouth opened as if he was going to speak. 

“You’re not in love with me,” Derek said sternly. Stiles noted the change in wording with a squint of his eyes. 

“What I’m hearing here,” Stiles said amusedly as he popped the top off of the dessert, using his other hand to grab two spoons before continuing, “is you trying to convince yourself you’re not in love with me.” Stiles watched him for a moment as his cheeks reddened again and he read the ingredients of the ice cream container thoroughly. “But that’s not it, because you already know you’re in love with me,” he deduced. 

Derek’s eyes darted to Stiles’. “Stiles, that’s not--” Stiles clicked his tongue to interrupt before he dug his spoon into the ice cream. 

He placed the utensil in his mouth before proceeding with a mouth full of ice cream, “So that means you don’t think it’s possible that _I_ can be in love with you.” At Derek’s continued silence, Stiles nodded his head and hummed around the spoon in his mouth as he took another bite. He had to think about what he would say next, try to figure out the best way to move forward in this conversation instead of it halting to a stop as Derek was clearly trying to do. He was shocked when Derek was the first to speak up. 

“We had a great day, a few good months,” Derek started and Stiles waited for his hand to press against his shoulder. Instead, his hand reached for the other spoon and he took his own bite of the dessert, grimacing at the flavor. “What happened today was traumatic - for both of us - and we both need some time to process--”

Stiles barked out a laugh. “If you haven’t been paying attention, Derek, my _life_ has been pretty traumatic. And I gotta say, I’ve never made the rash decision to declare my love to someone in front of my pack the way I did earlier tonight even through all of it.” Stiles felt his anger flaring up inside of him. He had known his adrenaline was still pumping - his heart hadn’t really had a chance to start beating at a normal pace yet - but Derek’s insinuation that they needed more _time_ of all things infuriated him. 

“You just said that confessions can be coerced,” Derek argued, his voice was entirely too calm for Stiles’ liking. “Don’t you think that maybe whatever is happening in Beacon Hills is convincing you that you lo-- have feelings that aren’t really there?” Stiles scoffed as Derek couldn’t even bring himself to say the word. He should have expected it from someone who could barely open up, even when the circumstances presented themselves so clearly. 

“What I think,” Stiles spat, “is that you came into this town a few months ago with your broody attitude and your oversized truck and your stupidly loveable dog, and all of a sudden, things changed.” 

Stiles realized at that moment that Derek hadn’t denied his own feelings. He had every opportunity to tell Stiles to get out of his house and out of his life - he had done it on multiple occasions prior to that one - but he sat there, scooping cherry ice cream out of a shared pint of ice cream and made no move to walk away. Stiles could think whatever he wanted about Derek Hale’s inability to let someone in, but wasn’t that exactly what he had done? 

The first time Derek laid eyes on Stiles, his posture had been tense, his teeth gritted as if he had to keep his mouth closed in order to contain whatever insults he probably could have thrown. He had used Luke as a barrier between them the few times after that. Then Melissa pushed her way into his life with pie and conversation and Derek was the one who sought Stiles out, who gave him the opportunity to get to know Derek just a little more. 

He had invited Stiles into his home, into his routine trips to the grocery store, and walks to the water. He had shared with Stiles his passion nestled in his photography portfolio and shown Stiles his desires with every moment of emotion that had surged between them. It didn’t matter that Derek was holding anything back because what he had given Stiles was enough. It was more than Stiles could have asked for and now… 

Stiles shook his head and ran a hand through his tangled hair once more. He thought he had changed since he was a kid; he was usually described as impulsive and stupid and too eager to be loved by anyone who showed him a lick of affection. As he stared across at Derek - mouth full of another scoop of ice cream Stiles knew he hadn’t liked and a sense of fear in his eyes as they burned a hole into the granite countertop in front of him - he realized he had to stop being a cop and start being a person. 

He sighed and rested his spoon on the counter. “If you need time, I can give you time. We have all the time in the world, sudden death by wolfsbane coated arrows disregarded,” he joked as he took a cautious step toward Derek. “But I wanna tell you something before we table this discussion. Is that okay?” Stiles waited for an answer and it came sooner than he had expected when Derek dropped his own spoon on the counter and turned to face him. 

“Yeah, that’s okay,” he breathed, resting his hands on Stiles’ hips as he slotted himself between Derek’s open knees. Stiles nodded slowly and pressed his palm against Derek’s shoulder, noting the way Derek hadn’t even flinched as he once had. It cemented everything he was about to say. 

“I know you think that I can’t possibly be in love with you because I don’t know whatever it is that happened to you to bring you here.” Stiles shushed Derek with a finger on his lips when he opened his mouth to argue and stated, “I’m not letting you tell me I’m wrong, because as I’ve pointed out, I’m pretty good at my job. I know when someone is hiding something.” Stiles leaned down so Derek had nowhere to look but his eyes. “But I also know that as much as you truly believe that your past will change my mind about us - this - it won’t.”

“You don’t know that,” Derek said quickly before Stiles could interrupt him again. Stiles nodded in understanding and stood up straight, resting his forearms on Derek’s shoulders as he laced his fingers together around the back of his neck. 

“I’ve always had an issue with trust. I like to do things my own way and I’ve convinced myself ever since Scott was bitten that I could do everything alone. I didn’t need to trust anyone because I trusted _myself_ to get the job done.” Derek looked up at Stiles with big, kaleidoscope eyes and Stiles wished he could understand the true sincerity of his words. “I trust that you’ll tell me whatever I need to know whenever I need to know it. And I trust that what we have isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. So,” Stiles said, tugging at Derek’s hair playfully, “if you need time to accept that I’m just as flawed, and just as scared you’ll realize how much _better_ you are than me… We’ve got time, Der, as much as you want.” 

Derek seemed to relax into his touch, leaning his head back so it rested heavily in Stiles’ hands and wrapping his arms more solidly around Stiles’ waist. He wasn’t quite sure what was parading inside Derek’s mind as their eyes caught but whatever it was had Derek nodding surely. He had known Derek was waiting for a moment similar to that one - the one where Stiles finally ran because Derek wasn’t enough - and he would like to think that the surprise laced in Derek’s gaze meant he really heard everything that Stiles had said. He wasn’t sure until Derek finally spoke. 

“There are about three other conversations we have to have,” Derek started but before Stiles could roll his eyes or argue that they had silently decided on just one for the night, Derek continued, “but right now, all I want to do is go to bed.” 

There was a fleeting moment where Stiles thought that was Derek’s way of kicking him out for the night, telling him that there were too many barriers in place for them to continue on with the routine they had unknowingly started together. He watched as Derek capped the ice cream and placed it on the appropriate shelf in the freezer, dropping the two spoons in the sink as he went. It wasn’t like Derek to leave dirty dishes in the sink and Stiles held his breath and waited for some kind of direction. 

“If I carry Luke up the stairs, can you grab the bag of medicine and a bowl for water?” Derek asked hesitantly. It occurred to Stiles then that Derek had been waiting for the same exact thing. He released the air from his lungs with an almost broken sounding laugh and nodded as he ran his hands over his tired face. 

“Yeah, I got it,” Stiles said with clear relief in his voice. Derek smiled at him as he plucked Luke off of the couch carefully, whispering, “Dobry,” every few seconds, and made his way up the stairs. Stiles’ eyes stayed glued to the two most important people in his life before he felt his exhaustion catch up with him. 

He checked all three locks on the door, made sure all of the windows were shut and locked, tossed the wooden stopper in the slider, and reminded himself just how much Derek trusted him to do all of it. Derek might not be ready to let himself love Stiles out loud, but he was showing it with every single moment they spent together. For now, Stiles let that be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're not already following, I have a [Tumblr](https://sparkandwolf.tumblr.com) specifically for my Sterek obsession so feel free to follow it for updates and snippets and other Sterek content. I am **always** accepting prompts and questions, so please give me a shout!
> 
> Also, feel free to follow my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/thatnerdemilyj) and let me know what you think. 
> 
> Please, please, please let me know what you think of this in the comments and leave kudos if you enjoyed it! See you soon!


End file.
